John R. Thayer's Blog

Episode two of ‘Tell Me About That!’ was about to start.  Enzo had arrived late.  He met his new producer, Bob, but it was too close to air time to be able to have any real conversation.  Bob had only joined the team the day before, and was acting in more of a learning capacity until he caught on to the way Enzo liked doing things.

The lights went up and the applause signs flashed brightly on both sides of the studio.  The audience cheered loudly as Enzo stood in front of his desk, smiling wide at the center camera with the green light on top.  “Hello,” he said with his British accent, “and welcome to ‘Tell Me About That!’  The show that welcomes guest who make incredible claims and then tries to poke holes in those same claims.”  The audience laughed as he put his hands together, and said, “Our guest tonight owns a lamp that he says he believes is cursed.  Please help me welcome to the stage, all the way from Beechnut, California, Mr. Gary Decker!”

The audience applauded enthusiastically as Gary entered from the left side of the stage, slowly coming out from behind a gray curtain.  Gary was an older man; heavy-set with short salt and pepper hair.  He was dressed in a black suit that was a shade too tight for his physique, and he hadn’t shaved in several days.  He was pulling a small red wagon behind him that held a long brown box.

When he arrived at Enzo’s desk, they shook hands awkwardly, as Gary brought Enzo’s hand up and down with a quick, exaggerated motion.  Enzo pulled his hand away when he got the chance and motioned for Gary to have a seat as the audience’s applause died down.  Enzo got comfortable behind his desk as he said, “Gary, Gary, Gary, thank you for coming on the show today.  Really so good of you to come!”

“Thank you for having me,” Gary said.  Gary’s voice had a unique whine to it.  The tone reminded Enzo of the noise a birthday whistle made.  The kind that had the paper attached to it, so when you blew it, the paper would unfurl and cause the nasty whistle sound.

“So, tell me a little bit about the lamp.  Where did you get it, and why you believe it’s cursed,” he said.

“So, I got the lamp at a garage sale and I know it’s cursed because bad things have been happening to me ever since the moment I got it,” Gary said.  “I don’t have proof that it’s cursed, of course, but the bad luck that follows it is staggering!”

“Okay, well then, let’s have an example,” Enzo said.  “And before we continue, is it a correct statement that the lamp is in that box next to you in your little red wagon?”  The audience laughed as Gary said, “Yes, that’s right.  It’s in a lead-lined box to protect us all.  It’s the only thing that seems to help.”

“I see, so tell us what horrible things have happened with this lamp in your possession,” Enzo said.

“I paid ten dollars for the lamp.  When I bought it I was confused by the couple that sold it to me because they appeared so happy over this little sale.  They were even hugging each other as I drove away.  I saw them in my rearview.  Anyway, after I left, I stopped at the first red light I came to, and a tree landed on my car; right on the hood!”

“Oh my; was there a storm going on?” Enzo asked.

“No, it was a beautiful, sunny afternoon!  I stopped at the light, and a tree on the side of the road smashed down right in front of me on the hood!”

“Wow…”

“From that point on, as soon as I got the think home, all kinds of things started going wrong with my house.  The first time I used it, I put it on the end table by my bed.  When I turned it on, the power blew out throughout the house,” he said, throwing his arms in the air as if to mimic an explosion.

“But, can you blame that on the lamp?” Enzo asked.  “I mean, perhaps it’s a faulty outlet or overloaded circuitry.”  Gary shook his head emphatically without speaking for several seconds.  “I can; it’s the lamp!  It’s definitely the lamp!  That same night I had terrible nightmares, and they continued every night thereafter.  I lost my job, my dog ran away, and all of my appliances broke.”

Enzo held one hand by his mouth as he thought about Gary’s comments.  “I am sorry about your job and your dog, but appliances do break down, you know.  I mean, they don’t last forever.”

“Yes, I know, but they all broke down on the same day!” he said.

“I see; well, that is a bit odd, isn’t it?”

“Yes, my house had power, but nothing in the house worked.  I had to eventually buy everything new.  This kept up for three months until I finally traced all of my problems back to the lamp.  I realized that all of my problems started with the tree falling on my car.”

“And what did you do when you discovered the problem?” Enzo asked.

“First, I tried to take it to a church.  I have one within walking distance from my house, and I wasn’t about to put that thing in my car again, so it was a good plan.”

“Heavens no; not in the car again!” Enzo said.  “So, what did the church do for you?”

“I went there thinking maybe they could bless it or throw so holy water on it or something.  I don’t know, I was just hoping they could get rid of the evil.  But I got to the church during their service, which was my plan.”

“Uh huh.”

“And they told me I couldn’t come in there with the lamp,” Gary said.

“Why not?”

“I think they were anti-lamp,” he said.  Enzo and the audience began to laugh.  “Anti-lamp?  Is that an actual thing?”

“It may be, I don’t know,” he said.  “But, either way, they made me leave.  I called around to different churches to see if someone would come to the house, but they all thought I was joking.”  Gary had a dejected look on his face, when Enzo said, “How rude!  I mean, you’ve got a cursed lamp here!  That’s not a joking matter.”  The audience chuckled as Gary nodded, and said, “After that, I buried it, but bad things kept happening.”

“What else happened?”

“Well, for one thing, I developed a rash,” Gary said.

“A rash…,” Enzo said.  “And you attribute that to the lamp?”  Gary nervously scratched the top of his head, and said, “Yes.”  He looked around at the audience, waiting for a break in their laughter, and said, “And one of my windows broke when a baseball went through it.  Some kids were playing ball nearby, and it got away from them.  It could’ve been the lamp.”  Enzo slapped his hand down on his desk as he openly began laughing, along with the audience.  Gary began to look irritated as he sensed the crowd turning on him.  “It’s true!” he yelled in a squeaky voice.

Enzo saw him getting upset and did his best to regain his composure and change the subject.  “So, at some point you put it in that box, did you?” he asked as he pointed to it.

“I did,” he said, “It’s led lined and seems to have done the trick.”

“Oh, it did, did it?” Enzo asked.

“Well, my rash cleared up pretty quickly,” he said as the crowd laughed.

“I’m very happy that you brought it with you.  It seems ironic that a cursed lamp is being wheeled around in a child’s toy.  Would you agree?” Enzo asked.

“Uh, no, I don’t see the irony.  The wagon is just a practical vessel.  Nothing says it needs to be used by a child,” Gary said.  The audience laughed again, as Enzo said, “I suppose that’s true.”

“But anyway, yes, that is the lamp in the box, in the wagon,” Gary said.

“Fabulous,” Enzo said.  “And do you have any idea why the lamp is cursed?”

“No, no idea at all,” Gary said.  I spoke with someone who knows about this sort of thing though.  She said that objects can have bad vibrations attached to them if they were involved in something traumatic or extremely negative in nature, such as a murder or suicide.”

“I see; did this person offer a solution of any kind?  I would think destroying it might help.”

“I suggested that to her as well, but she said that due to the severity of the curse, if I try to destroy it, it’s quite possible that it would only break into smaller pieces, each having just as much power as the whole.”

“Ah, and we don’t want twenty of these little devils roaming the earth, right?” Enzo asked.

“I should say not!  She suggested the led box, and that worked.”

Enzo clapped his hands together as he smiled, and asked, “Right, now that we’ve discussed the topic to death, may we see the lamp?”

“Certainly,” Gary said.  He reached down into the wagon and pulled out a manila envelope.  He opened it and pulled out a photo of the lamp, and then turned it for the audience to see.  He pointed to the base of it, and said, “This monkey reading the book is what drew me to it.  I like monkeys.  I’m a monkey guy.”  Enzo looked around the page at the picture of the monkey sitting with its legs crossed, reading a book, and said, “That’s a very nice picture, Gary, but may we see the actual lamp now?”

Gary shook his head, and said, “Oh, it’s far too dangerous to remove from its box.  It could destroy us all if I let it out!”

“But you were asked to bring it here so we could all see it,” Enzo said.  “What good does it do for the interview if we leave it sitting in the box?”

“Far too dangerous…” Gary said, rubbing his left eye.

Enzo began to appear the smallest bit frustrated, as he said, “You mean to say that you truly believe that lamp will cause bloody chaos if you just open the box and pick it up for us to look at?”

“Yes, that’s right…” he said, as he finished rubbing his eye.

“It’s just a bloody lamp!” He yelled

“Bloody cursed lamp,” Gary said, quietly.

“Alright then,” Enzo said,” let’s ask the audience.  By a round of applause, who’d like to see the lamp come out of the box after waiting all this time thinking you were going to see it?”  The audience erupted with applause as many stood and cheered, somewhat prompted by the offstage signs blinking.

When the cheering subsided, Enzo looked to Gary for his approval to open the box.  Gary’s eyes went to the floor as he buckled under the pressure, as he reluctantly said, “I just want it on record that I was against opening the box.  I won’t be held responsible for any damage caused.”

“Duly noted, now open the box please,” he said quickly.  Gary sighed and shrugged as he said, “Very well; I was hoping to convince you otherwise, but I suppose I should’ve known better.  He leaned down and carefully un-latched the box and then slowly swung it open as if it were a bomb.  He leaned down further as he whispered, “Oh dear,” picked up the lamp gingerly, and rested it on his knee.

Enzo looked it over from behind his desk, and finally said, “It’s not very imposing, is it?  The lamp was of simple design.  It had a square base with the golden monkey sitting just above it on a small pedestal with his legs crossed, reading a book.  A black eighteen inch shaft held the wiring up to the lightbulb, covered by a small, off-white shade with clear plastic crystals hanging from its lowest point all the way around.  “I’ll admit it doesn’t look like much, but it’s plenty evil, alright.”

“Why do you think this little guy is so angry?” Enzo asked, pointing to the monkey.

“I don’t know, but we’ve had our fun, so may I put it away now?  I’d like it safely back in the box.  We’re tempting fate by having it out this long,” he said.

“Now Gary, you really don’t think all these bad things that happened to you are somehow related to this lamp being in the daylight, do you?  I mean, I’m starting to wonder if this whole thing isn’t just a giant dry for attention.”

“Are you crazy?” Gary yelled.  “This lamp has a terrible curse!  He looked around and said, “Oh, enough of this, you don’t believe me; none of you believe me!”  He leaned down to put his lamp back in the box as Enzo raised his hands over his head, and said, “Oogie boogie!”

Gary moved faster after that, as the audience laughed at him, slapping the lid down on the box and clasping it shut, and then stood up to leave.  Enzo stood up with him and smiled as he said, “Gary, don’t go; the show’s not over.”

“Oh, it’s over, alright!” Gary said.  He began pulling his little red wagon across the stage when one of the front wheels fell off and rolled away.  Gary watched, mortified, as it rolled out of sight and the audience fell out of their chairs laughing.  He pulled up higher on the handle to get the other three wheels to touch the ground, and then continued pulling the wagon away.

Before he got all the way off-stage, he stopped and turned to Enzo, and said, “Before I knew it was cursed, I knew a man who was celebrating his ninety-fifth birthday.  Throughout his life he had collected many objects with monkeys on them.  I assumed the lamp would make the perfect birthday gift for him, so I wrapped it and presented it to him at his party.”

Enzo smiled, and asked, “And what happened with that?”

“He had a lovely birthday celebration, surrounded by beloved family and friends.  The next day, his son called me to tell me my friend had died the previous night.  He said he didn’t feel right keeping his father’s gifts under the circumstances, and he insisted I take it back.”

“How many gifts would you say your friend received that night?” Enzo asked.

“Oh, he must have gotten several dozen gifts that night; why?”

“Doesn’t that mean it’s possible that any one of those gifts could have been cursed?  It wasn’t necessarily your lamp,” he said.

“I’m sure it was the lamp,” Gary said.

“He was ninety-five years old, Gary!  God bless him, but people don’t typically live that long!  It was just his time!”  Gary stood motionless for a moment, staring at Enzo, and finally said, “It was the lamp.”  Gary turned to continue across the stage as Enzo came around his desk to try to convince him to stay, tripping on the foot of it as he did.  He stumbled forward a few steps as Gary heard him and turned back to look.  “It’s begun!” Gary yelled in a nasal voice, as he turned and left.  Enzo smiled as he caught himself and stood up, watching Gary leave.  “Come on, Gary; come back!” he called as he shook his head in disbelief.  “You don’t need to take it out of the box again!”

“Gary came back to the edge of the stage, and yelled, “The interview is over!”  Just then a light fell from above, smashing on Enzo’s desk, and creating a loud popping sound, startling everyone and sending glass shards flying.

Many people in the audience began to get up and move away from the stage, while a few left through the back.  A stage hand that came out to help clean up the glass, slipped on it and fell, cutting both arms as he got back on his feet.  He limped away, holding one of his arms as he swore under his breath, and accidentally bumped squarely into the end of the set’s back wall.

The wall, bearing the name of the show, wobbled a bit at first, and then let go from above, crashing down forward, covering Enzo’s desk and the guest’s chair.  Enzo backed away as he saw it happening, retreating to the extreme edge of the stage.  He heard Gary yell from off-stage, as he walked out one of the emergency exits, “I tried to tell you but you wouldn’t listen!”  Enzo watched the little red wagon go through the door as it quietly shut, and then he turned back to the audience when he heard lights popping.  Lightbulbs above the audience were exploding above the unfortunate souls who thought they were simply going to be entertained for an hour, but at this point were holding their arms over their heads and running for shelter.

Enzo, trying to escape the falling glass, backed up around the fallen set, into a TV camera.  The cameraman had already abandoned it, so when Enzo backed into it, it spun away from him, causing him to fall and land on his back.  Once down, Enzo turned and realized that the camera provided him with a small amount of shelter from the flying shards of glass.  He stayed where he was as he watched the audience, now behaving as a screaming hoard; knock each other down as they all tried to make their way through the doors at once.

When all the people had gone and the lightbulbs stopped popping, Enzo sighed in relief and smiled as he rolled out from under the camera and stood up.  He looked around one more time, just in case there was anything else that may want to take his life, and then brushed some dust off of his pants and walked in front of the camera as he combed through his hair with his fingers.  “Well, this looks familiar, doesn’t it?” he asked.  He laughed as he said, “My God, this is insanity.  I can honestly say I’m re-thinking my move from England.”  He brushed some debris off of his shoulder, and said, “Was this the result of a cursed monkey lamp or simple bad luck at an inappropriate time?  I’ll let you decide while I clean this mess up.  I’m thinking it’s the latter, though.”  He stood up as straight as possible, smiling wide, as he said, “Join me next week, when my guest will be…a ghost.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is for my wonderful and amazing wife, Judy, and is based on actual events.

If You Give Your Wife A Picture

If you give your wife a picture, she’s going to want you to hang it on a wall. When you hang it on a wall, she’s going to notice how drab the walls look and ask you to paint the room.

When you paint the room, she’ll notice how bad the rug looks, and ask you put down a new one. When you put down a new rug, she’ll notice how bad the light fixtures look, and ask you to replace them. When you replace the light fixtures, she’ll notice how bad the furniture looks under the new lights, and ask to replace it.

When you replace the furniture, she’ll notice the hallway doesn’t transition very well, and ask you to paint the walls. When you paint the hallway walls, she’ll notice the rest of the house needs painting too, and ask you to re-paint it. When you paint the rest of the house, she’ll notice how bad all of the floors look, and ask you to re-carpet the other rooms.

When you re-carpet the whole house, she’ll notice how bad the kitchen and bathrooms look, and ask you to tile them. When you tile the kitchen and bathrooms, she’ll notice how shabby the towels look in the bathrooms, and ask you to buy new ones. When you buy new towels, she’ll notice that they don’t match the pictures, and ask you to buy a new one.

And when you buy a new picture , she’s going to want you to hang it on a wall…

Adapted from, “If You Give A Mouse A Cookie,” by Laura Numeroff

 

Enzo was a talk show host on a local television channel in Manchester, New Hampshire.  He’d hosted other shows during his career in the U.K., but this show was brand new, and the first show he’d done in the U.S.  Hopes were high from the station’s ownership that ratings would skyrocket with Enzo on board.

He sat in his chair on the set, talking with George, the show’s producer, about the plan for the day.  This was a live show, making the odds lower for everything to go right, and at the same time increasing the chances for a ratings increase.  Enzo’s makeup artist worked on finishing up her work just above his eyebrows, wished him luck, and walked away.

George wished Enzo a good show as Enzo stood up and shook his hand.  George walked backstage as Enzo ran his hands down each side of his suit, adjusted his black tie, and asked a stage hand if his hair looked alright, before sitting down again behind his desk.  His desk was brown, simple, and covered on three sides down to the floor.

The audience quieted down as someone off-stage held his right arm high in the air and counted down from five with his fingers.  Energetic theme music began playing as neon signs lit up on both sides of the stage, prompting the audience to applaud and cheer.  Enzo gave the camera his best smile when he got the cue that they were on the air, and waited for the audience to begin to quiet down before he said, “Hello! and welcome to ‘Tell Me About That!’  The show that welcomes people who make fantastic claims, and try to back them up in the face of logic.  I’m Enzo Rollins, and this is the first in a series of live shows that I truly hope proves to be both entertaining and enlightening for everyone.

“As someone out there may be aware, I’ve been in television and radio for the past twenty-seven years in the U.K., hosting shows about many subjects.  I think it’s safe to assume this is going to be a bit of a stretch for me though, given some of the topics I’ve seen on the docket, but we’ll just see how it goes, shall we?

“My guest tonight hails from the state of Indiana.  She’s self-published a book, called, “My life as an outer space alien,” he said as he held the book up to the camera.  “Please help me welcome Cora Nussbaum!”  He stood up to welcome her as the audience applauded.

Cora entered the frame slowly, smiling nervously as she looked around at the stage and waved briefly at the audience.  Cora was twenty-three years old, with shoulder-length black hair.  She had a medium build and was simply dressed, wearing a white sundress with a blue pattern of flowers on it.  She shook Enzo’s hand and sat down next to his desk in a black padded chair that had no armrests.

“Cora, welcome to the show.  Thank you very much for being here,” he said.

“Hi…hi…thank you,” she said.

“Nothing to be nervous about, Cora; we’re all friends here,” he said.  Cora grinned and looked around again without speaking.

“Have you been on television before, Cora?”

“Um…no, never,” she answered.

“How do you like it so far?”

“…Not sure yet.  People here are very nice, though,” she said.

“Yes, well, I guess that’s always a good thing to hear,” he said.  The audience chuckled as Cora grinned, not sure what to make of Enzo at this point.

“Now Cora, you claim to be an alien.  Tell me about that.  What’s that all about?” he asked.

“It’s true; not in the sense of the word that everyone knows, but it’s true in terms of my origins being from another planet.  I can confirm though, that I am originally from another world,” she quietly said.

“Yes, I see,” he said as he rubbed his chin in contemplation.  “But if you were born and raised in Indiana, how is it possible for you to be from another planet?  I mean, you understand my confusion, don’t you?”

Yes, I totally get that,” she said.  “I didn’t always know about my origins.  I mean, I grew up in a small town in Indiana with no idea of who I really was.  Then one day, a friend of mine asked me if I wanted to go to Aliencon with her.”

“And for anyone watching who may not be aware, what is Aliencon?” Enzo asked.

Cora nodded, and said, “Right; Aliencon is a convention that’s all about aliens.  They have guest speakers, panel discussions, things like that.  Oh, and a lot of people dress up in alien costumes for fun, but it’s all really a very serious thing.  Some people are there to promote their latest book on the subject, and film companies send actors to talk about related movies.”

“Thank you; so you went to one of these things, and what happened?” he asked.

“I was a high school senior, and I went there with a few of my friends to see what it was all about.  It sounded like fun, ya know?  But when we arrived and I started looking around, I began to feel like I was able to relate to everything I was seeing,” she said.

“Like what,” he asked.  “Pictures?  People dressed in costumes?  What?”

“Everything!” she said. “I was seeing pictures and posters with all different races of aliens on them.  I saw replicas of space crafts and photos of real ones.  I saw photos of star clusters and galaxies that I felt I recognized.  Have you ever done that?  Just saw something that you felt you knew even though you had never seen it before?”

“I have!” a man shouted from the audience.  The crowd laughed as Enzo joked, “Thank you, sir.  That’s very helpful.”

“We spent the entire weekend going to seminars and talking to people about conspiracy theories, aliens on earth, sightings, abductions, and ancient alien theory.  I bought a whole bunch of books that I brought home and read cover-to-cover.”

Enzo scratched his head as she spoke, formulating the next question in his mind as she finished.  “And, uh…was there a specific moment when you thought, ‘That’s it!  I know who I am now!’”

“Yes, I was watching an interview during Aliencon, and I was completely identifying with the guy being interviewed.  He was also from another world.  He’s not from my home world, but he had gone through the same struggles as I did. to find himself.  He talked about one thing in particular that really resonated with me.  He said that every night since he was a teenager, he would either look out at the stars from his window, or go outside and walk while he looked up at them.  As he walked, he said he would wonder about what was out there, and if there was anyone looking back at him.  It was at that moment that I realized I do the exact same thing!  So, I immediately felt like I was one with him.  I mean, who does that, right?”

“Enzo pursed his lips as he said, “Cora, I think it’s safe to say that everyone contemplates their place in the universe at some point.  Would you agree with that?”  Cora thought for a moment, and said, “Um…no, not really.  I’m pretty sure people don’t think about that stuff much at all.”

“So, you believe only you have contemplated why we’re all here?” he asked.

“Well, I mean, I guess some people think about it, but not all the time like I do.  I can also do something regular people can’t.  I can pick up on people’s moods without them saying anything.  I can tell when people are happy or sad, way before they tell me.”

“I think that’s called reading body language,” Enzo said.  Some of the audience laughed, others grumbled, while one female voice called out, “I can do the same thing!”

“Thank you madam,” Enzo said.  “I didn’t realize we’d have such a participatory group here today.”  Some of the audience laughed as he continued.  “Now Cora, do you mind telling me the name of the person who changed your life?  Would that be alright?”

Cora placed her hands on her knees and looked out into the audience.  “His name is Dickie,” she said.  I’m not going to say his last name because he asked me not to.  He’d like to remain anonymous while on earth, which is unusual, given the fact that he’s a Sagittarius, but whatever.”

“Now, what do your parents here on earth think of all of this?” Enzo asked.  “Have they met this Dickie person?”

“My parents have never met him, but they want to,” she said.

“Yes, I’m sure they do…” he smirked.

“At first they both thought I was crazy, but they came around after we talked about it a lot.  They are finally starting to see through the veil, viewing the world as it really is,” she said.

“So, they’re buying into all this?  How could they believe it from a parent’s perspective?” he asked.  “Doesn’t your mum remember giving birth to you?”

“She does, and in the beginning of those conversations about my birth, my parents would always roll their eyes when I’d remind them they’re not my true parents, but it wasn’t until I got really mad and started smashing things that they’d suddenly remember.  It’s like they were repressing their memories because they just didn’t wanna believe it, ya know?  It’s cool now though.  They fully get our true purpose now.”

“True purpose?  Please enlighten us with what our true purpose is,” Enzo asked.  “And I assume you’re talking about all of us on the planet and not only the chosen few who’ve been enlightened to this point?”

“Yes, this is for all of us as a group,” She said.  “So, let me explain to you how I came upon my understanding.  First, I learned of our true origin, from Dickie.  Dickie started me on the initial path to where we came from and where we’re going.  I sat and talked with him for hours at a time!  I swear I could listen to him forever because he’s so incredible and makes so much sense.”

“And you’re talking about…Dickie still…” Enzo asked.

“Yes, of course!” she said as she smiled wide.

“Is that really his name?  Dickie?” he asked as he laughed.

“Um, yeah, I told you that a while ago,” she said.

“Please forgive me,” he said.  Please continue about Dickie,” he said as he began to laugh.  She paused for a moment as some of the audience laughed with Enzo.  “Dickie remains a great source of information for me, but I’ve also gained understanding from long hours of deep meditation, interviewing abductees, and even by using psychotropic drugs.  They’ve helped a lot!”

“Yes, I’m sure they have,” Enzo quipped as a small part of the audience snickered.  “Tell me Cora, not to get too far off-track because I know you were heading somewhere with this, but have you ever been abducted yourself?” he asked.

She thought about it, and answered, “Not that I’m aware of , but there have been times when I would wake up in the morning overly tired with unexplained scratches on my butt, so there’s that.”

“Scratches on your bum?” Enzo said.

“That happened to me too!” a voice called from the audience?”  Cora looked out, not knowing who said it, and clapped quickly a few times for the person.  She turned back to Enzo and said, “Just below it, yes.  On the crease where my butt stops and my leg begins.  So, with that kind of thing happening, it’s a pretty good bet that I’ve been abducted.”

“Ah ha, I see,” he said.  Enzo looked to the audience for a laugh, but didn’t get one.  “I’m sorry to have interrupted your train of thought a moment ago.  You were about to tell us about our purpose.”

“Yes, thank you,” she said.  “There’s a lot going on here, so I’ll explain.  You see, none of this is by accident.”

“None of what?” he asked.  Cora held her arms out straight with her palms up, and said, “Everything you see!”  It’s all on purpose!  The air, the land, the moon.  The only things that were there from the start are the stars we see.”  Enzo stared at her blankly as he put his elbow on the desk and held his head up by resting it on his fist.

“Do you really think the moon got out there on its own?” she asked.

“Well…yes…yes, I thought it did,” he said.

“Well, that’s wrong,” she said.  “Don’t you find it strange that we always only see the same side of it?”  Enzo brought up his second hand to hold up his head, continued staring at her, and shrugged, wondering where this was going.  “This world was set up to promote and support life, like a BILLION years ago.  It was moved to the Goldilocks zone on purpose.  The moon was brought in from another part of the solar system and set where it is to create the correct tide levels appropriate to promote accelerated evolution.  Different alien species came in later, once mankind had reached a certain level and began playing with their DNA to make it even better.”  She looked out into the audience and yelled, “Come on, people!  Haven’t you ever wondered why we only see the same side of the moon?  Do you really think the orbit is so perfect that it would make the moon stay in the exact same position since the day it became the moon!  It was set up to not revolve because that’s where the alien’s main base is – on the dark side!”

“I knew it!” one of the camera men said.  He looked around briefly, but no seemed to notice.

“And the pyramids!” she said.  “That whole thing with the Egyptians building them was the aliens coming down when humans were evolved enough to communicate.  They had the humans build the pyramids all over the planet for several reasons.  They used them to create energy for their ships so they’d be able to get back home when the time came.  They also used them as a navigation tool to help future ships find their way here.  As humans, most people just look at them and figure, oh well, they’re pyramids, without realizing all the stuff about them that’s so cool, and couldn’t have been made by the people of the time without help.”

“That makes sense,” one man said.

“Total sense!” another one said.

Enzo sat up straight in his chair and folded his arms, as he said, “Okay, so you, and by you, I mean the aliens you talk about, have created conditions on earth that support and perpetuate life.  The human race is thriving.  Bully for you! You did well.  Now what, Cora?  What’s next?”

Cora grinned and moved her gaze from the audience, over to him.  “I’m glad you asked,” she said.  Discussion and grumbling rolled through the audience as the ‘Quiet please’ signs flashed brightly off-camera.  “Enzo, there is one giant secret that I’ve been authorized to reveal.  This was confirmed through my deep meditation a few days ago, so it’s perfect timing!”

“And who was it that authorized this breaking news?  I’ll guess it was Dickie?” he asked.

“Yes, it was Dickie,” she said.  “That’s very good.”  Enzo began snickering as the audience quieted down.  She looked back to the audience, and looking rather giddy, said, “There is no one left on the planet that is fully human anymore.”  Enzo cocked his head slightly as she continued.  “Aliens from various worlds have been working together forever to engineer human DNA in preparation for space flight when the time is right.”

“Space travel to where, Cora,” Enzo asked.

“To the home world.  Everyone on earth is now a minimum of fifty-one percent Anunnaki.  The Annunaki, for those who don’t know, are the race of aliens that was here to direct the building of the pyramids.  We are all ready to go to the home world, and when the great awakening happens, everyone will know all that I’ve said to be true in their hearts.  Soon the great sound will be heard all around the planet.  It will be a beautiful, yet piercing noise unlike anything that has ever been heard by these types of ears before.  The sound will penetrate everywhere, in both the quietest and the loudest places across the globe.  No one will be able to avoid it.  Once someone has heard it, they will be attuned to the truth about the nature of the universe, and their place in it.”

“I see,” Enzo said.  “And what about deaf people?”

“Deaf people?” she asked.

“Yes, they’ll have no avenue to hear the joyous noise.  What do you make of that?”

“Oh, they’ll hear this anyway.  They’re not really deaf.”

“They’re not?”

“No, they just think they are,” she said.  “It’s actually just an illusion.”

“Are you absolutely sure of that?  Because I’ve got an uncle who’s very believable; can’t seem to hear a thing,” he said.

“Your uncle will hear it,” she said.

“How about people born without ears?  That’s a pretty tough illusion to break through!” Enzo said.  He looked to the audience smiling and expecting laughs, but none came.

“This noise transcends all obstacles.  It will be felt on the molecular level,” she said.

“And you know this, how?”

“Dickie,” she said.

“Yes, of course – Dickie,” he said with a fake smile.

“But, why would we want to go to the home world?  Why can’t we just stay here?  I mean, it’s all been set up so nicely for us.  I rather like it.” he said.

“We need to go to the home world in order to continue perpetuating our new hybrid race!  Won’t that be amazing?” she asked the audience.

He opened his mouth to say something when he heard a voice from the audience yell, “I never believed the moon was right, either!”  Enzo and Cora turned their attention to a large black man standing three rows back.  “You’re right, Cora!  I relate to everything you said!”

The audience became louder, speaking up and offering similar sentiments as Enzo stood up and said, “Alright, that’s quite enough!”  He continued to hear more shouts of endorsements for Cora coming from the crowd as he looked around, pondering his next move.

“I always knew I was different!” an older lady called from the back.  Enzo watched in confusion as people began climbing the stairs to get to the stage.  Cora stood up, smiling at the people, but unsure of their intensions.  A younger lady reached her first, grabbed Cora’s hand and shook it before Cora could react.  Others surrounded her as Enzo backed away from his desk and called to his producer; “George!  Can we get some control of this?”

“Preach it, Cora!  Preach it!” George yelled as he walked past Enzo to get near her.  The television cameras were no longer being manned, and sat at the angle where they were abandoned by the operators.  People crowding onto the stage knocked into them, causing them to move and tilt down.  The crowd began chanting, ‘CO-RA, CO-RA!” picking her up as if she had just scored the winning run in a World Series game, and holding her shoulder-high.  Enzo retreated backstage as he heard a man nearby call out amidst the chanting, “I can sense how people are feeling, too!  I thought it was just me!”  Enzo watched helplessly as the entire audience, along with his crew, carried a shocked, but ecstatic Cora, off-stage and out of the building through a side door that led to an alley.

“Where are you all going with her?” he asked.  “Bring my guest back at once!” he shouted.

Once they were all gone, Enzo, who was visibly shaken, stood alone, scratching his head as the door they left through, clicked shut.  He noticed the green light on one of the cameras and realized his show was still on the air.  He did his best to compose himself, straightening his tie and combing his hair with his hand, approached the camera timidly while leaning down at the waist in order to be seen from its off-balance angle.  At first, he showed a troubled look on his face, then flashed a smile like a used car salesman, and said, “And there you have it!  I’m not quite sure what went on here today; your guess is as good as mine.  Please join us again next week on ‘Tell Me About That’ – with, presumably a new crew – as we welcome a man who claims to own a cursed monkey lamp!”

Enzo’s smile faded as he stood up so only his torso could be seen, and then slowly walked away, with only the sound of his shoes tapping on the stage being heard.  As he wondered off, the television audience could faintly make out the sound of Enzo muttering, “What in bloody hell was that about?”  Then, after a moment, the transmission failed and the station went to static.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE THIRD CHAPTER

Doctor Rayther sat in the dark. The shades were drawn to keep out the horrible sunlight and let him focus and think clearly. The room’s light came from a freestanding candelabra that created a luminescent aura within the room, helping to calm the doctor’s nerves. The candelabra held five long white candles on a tall pewter stand and resided in a corner close to his desk. The wax on them was caked onto the base of each holder and had not been cleaned in so long that much of it had dripped to the floor and created a sizeable pile. The doctor didn’t always sit in the dark; only when the sun was shining brightly and he needed to concentrate. He sat in an old rickety wooden chair that was in desperate need of a few new screws to stop it from squeaking whenever he shifted his weight. He was staring at a laptop computer on his desk. It was a very old and sturdy brown wooden desk. The desk looked as though it had been hand-crafted many decades earlier. The sides held ornate carvings of flowers and stars that were intermingled. The desktop was worn out and scratched, as was the base. It held two loosely stacked piles of paper full of mathematic equations and scientific terminology that would mean nothing to a layman. The rest of the desk was loaded with what most people would consider junk; metal pieces and gizmos that no one but the doctor would understand. He was an older man with a small hunch in his upper back. He was not a very tall man, and was slightly overweight. He had a round face that was accentuated by a closely trimmed black beard

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and mustache. The black hair on his head was also kept short and formed a widow’s peak in the front, accenting his black eyebrows and giving him a look of constant anger. He was well dressed, wearing a sharp looking black pinstriped suit with a vest and matching black silk tie. The years of animosity and torment over becoming a laughingstock within his profession, coupled with the general dislike of the human race showed on his face with every wrinkle. His hands appeared more like claws due to the odd way he would manicure his nails. He let them grow long and then filed each to a very fine point. A squirrel sat on his desk looking at him. It was a grey squirrel named Pickles. Pickles had only one eye; his left one was gone. The eyelid was closed over it and it looked like he was always winking. He kept Doctor Rayther company while in his office, and would often sit on the doctor’s shoulder while he worked. Pickles’ claws would make tiny holes and scratch marks in the fabric of the doctor’s suits, but he didn’t mind. Pickles was his one true friend in the world. He spoke slowly, with a low pitch and a thick Hungarian accent as he read the day’s news on his computer and ridiculed the world. “Look at this, Pickles! This man killed five people. He had a gun and needed some money, so he went out and robbed them. Then he shot them to death. Now he will be in prison for the rest of his life. Someone decided one day that it was unjust to kill a human being who had killed another human being. Instead, we lock him away and let him rot somewhere while we pay for him to eat and keep warm. The prisons are too full. The prisons will not exist at all when I am in charge, Pickles. If someone commits a crime, they will pay for it as I see fit. If the person runs away and cannot be found, their family will pay for the crime,” he said. “And look at this one. People protesting, marching in the streets because they want their civil rights upheld. They do not see that their civil rights have been gone for decades. It does not matter what country you look at, the government is in control of the people. The difference is in the way the people are handled. The third world countries take control with a stronger and more brutal force than the so-called modern countries. The richer countries take control by offering electronics to the people, and

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then they are able to track their every move. “The people in this picture are complaining because their personal information has been taken by the government, in the interest, as the government says, of the security of the nation. These people are stupid, Pickles. This is not new. Their information has been taken for years and years. They have just not known about it, or have chosen to ignore it.” The doctor continued to scroll and read. The more he read, the more agitated and depressed he became. “These people, Pickles; they do not see anything. They walk around passing judgment on others whom they have never met and cannot hope to understand. They all live in glass houses and throw stones at every turn. They talk about loving and caring for one another, but they do not know how. They are only accepting of another’s view if that view concurs with their own belief, or serves a purpose to help meet their own agenda. At the same time, they preach about how to be tolerant of one another. If one person or group claims to be offended by the action or statement of another, the offender is pressured to stop whatever it is they are doing, even though stopping what they are doing will offend more people than the original group that is offended! Do you know what I am trying to say, Pickles?” he asked and then muttered, “One man puts up a Christmas tree in his office in December to celebrate his faith, and is told he must remove it because he is offending another person who is not Christian. No one is truly tolerant.” He took a deep breath and let out a sigh. He let his left arm come down to rest on the desk and Pickles came over and climbed on it, still watching the doctor as he spoke. “Morals are gone, Pickles. Morals are gone. Parents do not teach children right from wrong. The children go to school and the parents expect them to come home knowing how to be a good person. In the end it is the parents whom the children will emulate. It is not the teachers or the firefighters or the police, unless maybe their parents do those things for a living, but that is beside the point, Pickles. It is beside the point. Do not make me lose track of my thoughts. “All of the mainstream media in the world are run by only a few powerful people. They can make events in the world look any way they want them to, and in doing so, control the minds and attitudes

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of all those who watch and believe it. The populous in so many countries believe they run their government and that they are in a free society. They are wrong. They are fools! Governments train their citizens how to behave. They let them believe they are choosing their leader, but the leadership is just acting as a giant puppeteer pulling the strings of a blinded society. If they knew they were being oppressed, it would be one thing, but they have no idea what is going on. “They are constantly taking medicines they think are making them well, but in reality those medicines keep them sick by causing other problems. They take a pill to lower their blood pressure. That pill has a side effect of thinning out the blood so they take another pill to combat that. It is a cycle that does not end until the person is dead from taking an entire box of pills each day just to stay alive. People take medications because they are depressed, yet one of the side effects of the medication is to have suicidal thoughts. The people do not question these things, Pickles. “When they pass through scanners at the airports, their DNA is getting scrambled every time. After only a few more generations, people will be completely mindless drones and will do whatever they are told without question. They are sheep. Of course there are some exceptions, but in general people are like cattle,” he said. Pickles scurried up to the doctor’s shoulder as the doctor pulled a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. He held the pack on an angle and pulled one out. He put it in his mouth, put the pack back in his pocket, and then held the end of the cigarette briefly against his thumb and index finger until a tiny spark and smoke appeared. He released the cigarette and took a deep drag, giving the end of the cigarette an orange glow, then exhaled the smoke through his nose. “They willingly eat foods that they know are bad for them, and then get mad at the fast food companies that sold them the food and made them fat and sickly. They claim they have no time to eat healthy. They have time, they just choose not to do what is healthy. Then, after years of abusing their bodies with a poor diet and no exercise, when one of them does wake up and lose weight, they are regarded as a hero by some. That person is not a hero, Pickles. It is good for that person to take care of himself, but he

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should not have let himself get that way to begin with,” he said, flicking his ashes on the floor and taking another deep breath. Pickles climbed down from his shoulder and onto the desk, then turned around and continued to watch him as he took another slow drag of his cigarette. “Drugs, Pickles. The people of the world believe the governments are fighting against illegal drugs on their behalf. If they were, the drugs would be gone by now, instead of flourishing all over the globe. Those same drugs keep hospitals, doctors, pharmaceutical companies, gun makers and bullet makers thriving. It is the negative side of the precious global economy the so-called world leaders tout as such a miraculous thing. It is a farce. The human race is a farce, Pickles.” Doctor Rayther got up from his chair and walked to the window and peered through the blinds. The day was becoming cloudy. A storm looked to be forming along the long flat horizon. “Soon my plan will be in place to correct all of these things and make the world a happier place for all. The streets will be quiet. No one will ever be in need of anything. There will be no more murders, no more prisons. Drugs and alcohol will cease to exist. Cigarettes will become a thing of the past for the masses. There will be no more commercials telling you how bad smoking is, even though the governments are freely allowing the companies that make them to keep producing them, killing their loyal customers, and making billions of dollars in the process. There will be no division by social classes. Everyone will be equal, except for me. I will take care of them, Pickles.” He stood quietly, thinking and slowly moving his eyes around the room. The monitor on his laptop went dark from non-use as he continued his discussion. “I tried, Pickles. I tried to give the world all the energy they wanted, free of charge. They would have had all the energy they needed, and would have been able to use it as they wished. Instead of embracing the idea, they scoffed at it! They laughed at me when it was not even my fault that my machine did not work! They shouldn’t have laughed at me. They should have seen the sabotage for what it was; a clear and blatant attempt by the government to keep control of the people by denying them free energy and making them continue to pay for it with high taxes on every volt! Instead, my own colleagues shunned me.”

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Pickles jumped to the floor, darting over to the doctor and climbing up his pant leg, digging his small claws into the fabric, hanging on by the knee, sniffing him and looking around the room with his one eye. “Oh Pickles, I was trying to make the world better for everyone, but they saw it differently,” he said. He thought for a few more moments and continued. “My actions are just; they are heroic. You always want me to re-consider. Yes, I know I will create enemies, but I already have enemies. None of it can be helped. My enemies will fall. They will be targeted once my invention is perfected. The debts I am owed will be re-paid in full. No debt remains unpaid, Pickles. If the father does not pay for his own sins, then those sins will be paid for by the son. “Very soon the world will get the chance to start over. The contradictory rules of society will be eradicated. History will start new on day one of my leadership. The almighty dollar will not dictate the world’s laws anymore, and people will always be held accountable for both their actions and their crimes. Once my opposition has been put down, my first order of business will be to destroy all the world’s prisons along with everyone in them. No one in a prison can be realistically viewed in society as someone who has the capacity for rehabilitation. “The people in prisons would not have a place in my society anyway, Pickles. Prisons are a waste of resources. My utopia will have no prisons. There will be no need for them. Letting someone rot away in a jail cell is not a punishment. Chopping off an arm or a leg is a punishment. Simply putting an end to their miserable lives would be both a punishment and a blessing. But I will be a fair and popular leader. Today’s governments have actually taught me a lot about how to lead the world moving forward. In many ways I can emulate what they have done by disseminating information through my media that show how happy people are in my utopia. They will be in a state of constant contentment,” he said, rubbing his beard with his forefinger and thumb. “I wonder where my children are. They must arrive soon. My plans must keep moving forward as efficiently as possible.” Pickles jumped off the doctor to the floor and moved away from him, then jumped back onto the desk. The doctor opened the blinds, letting light into the room.

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“Do not be that way, Pickles. The children are not innocent. Just because they are young, that does not free them of guilt. They will arrive soon and things will be corrected,” he said. A small knock was heard at the door. “Enter,” he said softly. A wooden door on the opposite wall opened slowly and three men walked in. All three wore suits. The two on the outside appeared to be escorting the one in the middle. They all came through the door and stood silently, waiting to be recognized. Doctor Rayther crossed his arms and looked at the man on his left for answers. “Why do you disturb me?” he asked the man. “Forgive us, sir. Today at lunch, Agent Briggs here was seen taking more green beans than regulations allow. Per protocol, we are here to advise you of the situation so you may pass judgment,” the man said awkwardly. The doctor kept his arms folded and turned to the side looking disappointed in Briggs. “Mr. Briggs, do I not pay you enough here?” he asked without looking at him. “Yes, you do, sir,” Briggs answered. “Do we not feed you enough food each day then?” he asked. “Yes sir, you do. I wasn’t paying attention when I took the green beans, and instead of taking a level scoop, it was just a bit rounded on top. I meant no harm,” he said. “Of course it was rounded on top. How could it be rounded on the bottom?” Rayther asked rhetorically. Briggs just stood there, not sure how to respond. They all grew anxious as Doctor Rayther stood with his arms folded, staring out the window. “You have eaten more than was allocated to you. You have broken a rule. This was a rule that you were fully aware of, was it not?” he asked. The man stood silently. Sweat became evident on his forehead and his hands began to shake. “A simple yes or no is the answer I require, and the punishment for a lie is always death,” the doctor advised. “Yes,” he answered quietly. Doctor Rayther did not look away from the window. He did not even move as he spoke. “Fortyeight hours,” the doctor said softly. He then paused before continuing, as the men listened intently. “You shall not eat for the next forty-eight hours. You shall continue your duties and may eat again forty-eight hours from now. I feel this punishment is just, given the circumstances. Understand that I have a very limited

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number of soldiers here, and I need all of you intact. Had this happened a year or two from now, you would have lost one of your hands for your thievery. Do not underestimate my generosity in this matter. Go now,” he said in a tone of disgust. The men began to back out of the room as the doctor spoke again. “Also know that if you steal food again, no matter how small the amount, it will not be tolerated and your life will end. Hail Tesla.” The man’s eyes widened in fear, but he dared not to speak, afraid of possibly saying the wrong thing and angering the doctor. “Hail Tesla,” the other two men said as they all continued to back out of the room. “Hail Tesla,” Briggs said softly as the door closed. “Well Pickles, time to eat and then it is back to work. There is much to be done in only a short amount of time. Saving the world from itself is no easy task. We must locate the children and be ready for their arrival. After all, the sins of the father must be paid for by the son,” he said.

THE SECOND CHAPTER

They had travelled into the woods for about fifteen minutes until they felt relatively safe. The kids set up camp within a circle of five close trees. They faced each other in a triangle so that between the three of them, they could see in every direction. A thick layer of pine needles covered the ground, hiding their footprints. It was about four-thirty and the sun’s angle in the sky was causing the shadows to grow longer in the woods. Breezes made those shadows move sometimes, making the three even more jumpy than they were. “So, anyone know why someone wants to kill us?” Nap asked nervously, but trying to make a joke out of it. “All we were doing was walking down the street. Maybe when we get to the shopping center later, we can ask the guy who gives us the keys about it,” Amy said with tears in her eyes. “No good. The silver haired guy said not to talk to him. If we do, we might not get the car. When we get the car, we’ll be in much better shape. Once we have a vehicle, we can go to the cops and tell ‘em what happened. I mean, a car blew up. They’ll know we’re not making it up when we say we were there,” Jared said. “So we’re just gonna let these guys call the shots?” Nap asked. “For now yeah, but only until tonight. Once we have a car we can disappear. We need to lay low right now. We have five grand and soon we’ll have a car. I think we’re in pretty good shape. Nap, you do still have the fanny pack, right?” asked Jared. “Yeah, right here boss,” Nap said as he held it up. “Why a

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fanny pack? And green? I hate green. When was the last time you saw a black man walking around with a green fanny pack? It just doesn’t happen,” Nap said. “I’m hungry,” Amy said. “I was going to go out to dinner with my parents tonight. Now they’ll just worry all night,” she said, as she pouted with her arms crossed. “I’ve never had anybody try to kill me before; except for that kid when I was in third grade cuz he thought I stole his liverwurst sandwich. That was different though. I don’t like this one bit,” Nap said. Jared sat quietly while his friends bickered and complained. He pulled out his phone and opened a text he had received several days earlier. It was from an unknown number, and simply had a sequence of numbers that read 39.519783, -100.148765. He sat and stared at it, wondering if it had something to do with all of this. It had come very unceremoniously the other day at 5:11 pm. He was watching TV and glanced at it when it came through, but since it made no sense to him, he ignored it and later forgot to delete it. It stayed in the back of his mind though, because it was such an odd thing to come in a text. “Jared? You with us at all?” Nap asked. Jared snapped out of it and looked up at his friends. “Yeah, what’s up?” he asked. “We’re taking a look inside the pack, ok?” Nap asked. “Yeah, let’s see what we got,” he answered as he rubbed his eye and focused on them. Nap unzipped and opened it, pulling out a big wad of cash surrounded by a rubber band. He pulled out the hair dye, scissors, and other objects the silver haired man had mentioned, and said, “Personally, I’m not planning on cutting or dying any of my hair. You guys?” They both shook their heads as he stuffed everything back in the fanny pack and zipped it. There was a small zipper in the front of the pack that felt like it had something in it. He unzipped it and pulled out three driver’s licenses, one for each of them. “Check it out. Fake ID’s! The guy didn’t say anything about this,” Nap said. He gave them all a quick look and then passed Amy and Jared theirs. “Where’d that picture come from? That’s not my name or my address! My birthdate’s even wrong,” Amy complained. “That’s pretty much the point of a fake ID, ya know?” Nap said.

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“Shut up,” Amy said after she realized he was right, but didn’t want to hear it. “This makes me nineteen. I’m only fifteen. Matilda? Do I look like a Matilda? That’s an old person’s name. I’m not gonna be called Matilda,” she said. Well, my name’s ok,” Nap said. “Prescott Williams. I like it. It has class. What’s yours, J?” he asked. “Roger Kent. Sounds like Superman’s brother or something,” Jared said. “I don’t feel safe here. Can’t we walk to the pickup spot early?” Amy asked. “Nope. It won’t be much longer ‘til it gets dark though,” Jared said, as he put his phone back in his pocket. “This place reminds me of when we were real young and we’d all play in the woods behind your house, Jared. Remember the time we built a fort out of old sticks and branches, and then tried to get in it when it rained? We got all wet and dirty and it collapsed on us,” Amy said, smiling. Jared and Nap smiled slightly while she continued. “Your mom would always bring out snacks and drinks and make sure we were all getting along. Those were fun times; then things changed. After your dad died, nothing was ever the same again.” Jared took off a thin gold bracelet that he wore on his left wrist and studied it, deep in thought. “Remember when my dad gave us these?” he asked. “Sure we do,” Nap answered. “Like it was yesterday. It was just before he died,” Amy affirmed. “He asked me to find out if you preferred silver or gold about a week before he gave ‘em to us,” Jared said as he looked at Amy. “Gold all the way, baby,” Amy said, attempting a smile. “I guess he really wanted to make sure you were gonna like it. He always had a soft spot for you,” he said. Amy’s eyes filled with tears as he continued. “When he gave them to us, he made us promise to always be friends, and to keep them with us as a symbol of our friendship.” “Yeah, and don’t forget the corny oath he required us to take before he’d give ‘em to us,” said Nap. They all smiled as Jared said, “We promise to be loyal friends to the end, no matter what! Cross our fingers, cross our toes, if we

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break our promise, someone will beat us with a hose!” Things got awkward quickly as soon as they stopped talking, so Nap chimed in. “Not to change the subject, but where’d you get the lighter back there?” Nap asked Jared “Got it off my mom when she hugged me at the house. I’m always bugging her to stop smoking, so I snag her lighter now and then to remind her I want her to quit,” he said. “Well, I’m glad you’re such a good pickpocket. Quick thinking to blow up that car. It stopped the other car in its tracks. I feel bad for the people who owned the one you blew up, though. How do they explain that to the insurance company?” Amy asked “I don’t know. I feel bad about that too,” Jared answered. “So, when we get the car and we go to the cops, how do we know they’ll believe us? We’ll be in a car we don’t own with a huge wad of cash in an ugly fanny pack, and we’re underage. Who’s gonna believe us? All they’re gonna do is call our parents and try to send us home. According to the guy in the car, that could get dangerous for our parents,” Nap said. “We have to try. You’re right, we can’t go home. We can’t go forward and we can’t go back. The cops are the only option we have at the moment. How do we know they don’t know all about this? They might be waiting for us to go to them so they can help. Maybe they’ll take us in and protect us until all the bad guys get caught. We’ve got nothing to lose right now. If the cops won’t help us, we’ll just take off and figure something else out,” Jared said. “He’s right, Nap. It’s all we can do. We’ve gotta go to the cops to start with. We don’t even know what these people want us to do. For all we know, we’re gonna get in the car and have an answer to all this,” Amy said. The trio sat in the woods for several more hours talking about their plans, and pondering how they had come to be put in such a position. Finally, they felt comfortable enough to begin moving around in the dark. It was twilight. “This seems like a good time to get moving. If we don’t start out soon, we’ll get lost just trying to get out of these woods,” Jared said. Nap agreed and grabbed the fanny pack. He unzipped it, took out the flashlight, piece of paper with the directions and the

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compass. Then he leaned to his right as he got to his feet, stumbling a bit. They all dusted themselves off and looked around, once they were standing. Nap turned on the small flashlight and, pointing it at the compass, determined the direction they had come from, then began to walk in that direction. “Where you going?” Amy said. “Heading back the way we came. The guy said when it’s dark, to follow that road around to the right,” Nap answered. “But the bad guys are that way,” she said. “They’re gone. They wouldn’t hang around there, and if they did, they would have figured out where we went, and caught up to us by now. I haven’t heard any helicopters in a while, either. Besides, the directions on the paper start there,” he said. “I think we’re safe. Come on,” Jared said as he started walking and took the lead. Amy and Nap followed closely behind, as they all navigated their way through the growing darkness with freakishly eerie shadows all around them. Every sound made them jump, even the ones they were making by snapping twigs under their feet. Jared took it slowly in the lead, warning the others of uneven ground or small obstacles in their way. The last thing any of them needed was a twisted ankle. After about twenty minutes of walking, they began to see light filter through the trees up ahead. They knew they were getting close. A few minutes later they were standing at the edge of the woods looking down at the road they needed to follow. “I don’t wanna walk on the road,” Amy said. “Yeah, let’s walk in the woods as much as we can, with an eye on the road to stay hidden,” Nap suggested. “Yeah, ok,” Jared said as he started down the steep slope parallel to the road. They stayed in the woods about thirty feet from the road. When the occasional car came along they could easily disappear behind a tree or a big rock. After about a half mile they came to the end of the road and needed to turn right. The problem for them was that the woods ended soon after they turned. The road became a residential neighborhood with houses on both sides of the street, with no sidewalk and nowhere to hide. Many of the yards had a chain link fence that came all the way out to the edge of the yard, forcing them to walk in the street.

16

“It’s ok, guys. Just keep walking. We can go faster on the road anyway. Just act like you belong here and don’t look around a lot. If a car comes up behind us don’t look back,” Jared said. They all picked up their pace. No one talked as they were all on edge. Nap and Jared kept their heads down and put all of their energy into keeping a fast walking pace. Amy kept up well enough, but her eyes were darting around at all the cozy looking houses surrounding her. The bay windows with dim lights on inside the houses looked very inviting. She wished she could be in one of these houses, safe from possible harm. They continued the double-time march toward their destination with fearful determination. They would conquer this one obstacle before worrying about the next one. Jared and Nap quietly began to encourage each other with small jokes and fart noises, but were quickly shot down by Amy. “This is not the time!. How much further do you think? I’m getting tired,” she moaned. Just then they heard a car coming up behind them. The headlights got closer and closer. “Keep looking straight ahead,” Jared reminded them. The car seemed to slow down as it approached. Their hearts raced even faster than before, and their pace stayed noticeably and uncomfortably fast. The car headlights turned to the right and they heard the engine turn off. “Now what? Do we run?” Amy whispered with a shaky voice. “Not yet. Just keep walking,” Jared said. They heard the car door open then shut. They listened for footsteps. They didn’t hear any, but then they finally heard the squeak of a screen door. The person in the car had pulled into his driveway and was going into his house. When he went in, the screen door slammed shut behind him, jolting them out of their skins! “How long is this road? This is ridiculous!” Nap said out of frustration. “Anyone wanna jog?” he asked. “I see a light!” Amy said. “Funny, like you died, right?” Nap asked, as he continued to look down. “No, she’s right. There’s a stoplight up ahead,” Jared said. The road was on a slight curve and was now turning just enough so that they could see the end of the street. As they got closer, they saw a shopping center directly across the road. Jared kept checking his piece of paper, staring at it and making sure he was reading it right.

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“That’s it; that’s where we’re going,” he said with excitement. They got to the end of the street and waited for the light to turn green as they scoped out the shopping center. It was a strip mall – nothing fancy. The building was one story tall, went straight away from the road about two hundred yards, and then went at a ninety degree angle for the same distance with more stores. The anchor store was a grocery store, surrounded by smaller shops. It was just after nine p.m., and the grocery store was closing. All of the other stores’ lights were already out as they walked through the parking lot. There were only a few cars left in the lot, making it easy for them to spot the black Mustang. It was halfway through the lot, almost in the middle row, parked directly under one of the few street lights that was working. “I hope it’s an automatic. I was never taught a stick shift,” Jared said. “You mean you’ve had your license for all of twenty seven hours and in all that time you never learned to drive a standard?” Nap asked as they walked directly toward the car. Jared looked at his watch and hit the button on its side to turn on the light. “Twenty-eight hours, actually,” he said. They slowed their speed as they got closer to the car, looking around for the person who was supposed to give them the keys. They spotted a figure to their left walking on an intercept course from the other side of the parking lot. As the figure got closer they could tell it was a man. He looked to be very unassuming and who would probably be overlooked in a crowd. That was probably the idea behind sending him. He intercepted them about twenty yards from the car. Jared kept his left hand free. He did his best to not stretch out his arm for the keys. The man came uncomfortably close and skillfully handed off the keys into Jared’s open hand. The kids continued straight to the car as they momentarily marveled at its beauty. It was gorgeous! It was a brand new shiny black Ford Mustang Shelby GT500. The hubcaps were also black, with slender spokes running from the outside to the center. There was a hood scoop that looked wider than most, and made the car look mean. The front grill held fog lights on either side and the signature small metal cobra was mounted on the grill’s left side, with the pony in the center.

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Jared put the key in the door and turned it. He opened the door and was greeted by a blaring car alarm. It was a loud siren, accompanied by all of the car’s lights flashing on and off in alternating fashion from side to side. A few people who were milling around the entrance of the grocery store began to stare. The car was causing a scene. Jared fumbled with the keys, looking around and debating if he should even get in the car at this point. “Hit the alarm button on the remote!” Nap called out over the siren. Jared fumbled with the keys some more before finally hitting the alarm button and silencing it. The three looked around to see if they had caught people’s attention. “That was smooth,” Nap said as he anxiously took note of his surroundings. He was so nervous he was bouncing up and down on his toes as if he had to go to the bathroom. “Just get in the car,” Jared said, very embarrassed and nervous. He opened the door in a hurry and Nap climbed in the back seat, while Amy went around the car and got in on the passenger’s side. “Drive man! Just get us outta here!” Nap said. Jared, still flustered, fumbled with the keys again, trying to get them into the ignition. His hands were shaking so hard he needed to use both of them to be able to guide the key into its little slot. When he turned the key he held it in the turned position too long. The ignition made a loud screeching noise until he let it go. Once he let the key go, the engine settled into a low, powerful sounding rumble. “We’re doomed,” Amy said as she cupped her hand over her forehead.. Jared took several quick breaths, trying to calm down and get hold of his emotions. He slowly put his foot on the brake and shifted the car into drive. He took his foot off the brake and let the idle start moving the car very slowly. As they began to move, he turned the wheel to the right, heading for the exit. He straightened out the wheel once he was headed in the right direction. He let the idle take him all the way to the stop sign at the main entrance. This entrance led out to an intersecting street that was a main road. When Jared got to the stop sign, he put his foot on the brake, not realizing how touchy the brakes were, launching all three of them forward in their seats. “Which way should I go?” he asked, ignoring his quick stop. “Well, since it says no left turn, maybe you should turn right,”

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Amy said as nicely as possible, not wanting to upset him any further. Jared slowly turned right, onto the main road and brought the car’s speed up to thirty, as Amy rubbed his shoulder. A few minutes went by before he was able to regain his composure. While they waited for Jared to calm down they had searched the car for any kind of message that might let them know where they were supposed to go. They found nothing. The car was completely clean and even had that new car smell. Amy glanced at the odometer and noticed it only had thirty-two miles on it. “We need to find the nearest police station,” Jared said. They all looked around to try to get their bearings. They were in light traffic with no noticeable sign of being watched or followed. They continued straight on the road for a while, hitting a stoplight every half mile or so. It gave them all a chance to breathe and re-group. “Hey, this is a nice car. Leather seats, nice looking stereo, nice lit up dashboard. It’s a little small in the back seat, but still comfy. How’s it drive?” Nap asked, attempting to get Jared to start thinking about something positive. “Drives nice”, Jared answered abruptly. “Oh. Well good! Brakes work too?” “Yup.” “Great. Good talk,” Nap said. “The people in the car next to us are staring at me,” Amy said as she held her hand up to shield her face and looked forward. “Did you notice before we got in the car how reflective the windows are?” Jared asked. They can’t see you. They’re probably checking their look in your window,” he said. She glanced over again and noticed the woman in the other car appeared to be looking right through her. Amy waved her arms across her face with no response. She stuck her tongue out and still got nothing. “I guess you’re right. That’s kinda cool,” she said. “Ok, we’re miles away from the parking lot now. Let’s everybody stay relaxed and find the cops; unless you guys wanna go get something to eat first. I could go for a burrito myself,” Nap said. “How can you think of food now? I can’t eat until we get to the police and end this thing,” Amy said. The light turned green and Jared went with the flow of traffic. He saw an opening in the right lane, so he signaled and moved over safely. After a few more

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blocks, they came to the next stoplight. A blue Toyota Prius pulled up next to them at the light, with the passenger side window down. The driver was a young woman with short brown hair, wearing a light purple blouse. She looked approachable. Jared pushed the button on his door to bring the window down. “Excuse me, ma’am…could you please tell me where the nearest police station is? Nothing’s wrong, we just need to talk to someone, that’s all,” he said nervously. The woman looked over with a thin smile, leaned toward him a little and said, “They aren’t going to believe you, Jared. Follow the numbers on your phone. That’s the only way this will end.” The light turned green and the Prius took off, followed by two cars behind it. Jared just sat there, shocked at what the lady had said to him. Goosebumps covered Amy as she and Nap sat motionless with their mouths hanging open. People in the cars behind them started beeping their horns and yelling, waiting for them to move. Jared was jolted back into the moment with the cars beeping. He slammed on the gas, accelerating quickly and causing the back of the car to swerve slightly as the wheels skidded. “Jared, we are really trying hard to not die today, and right now you’re not helping us in our attempt!” Amy yelled. Jared got hold of his emotions and let up on the gas. “Sorry guys, but did you hear that? She knew my name! She knew what we were doing! All the people around us are probably just watching us to see where we go!” Jared said. “Police! Take a right here!” Amy said, pointing to a blue street sign that said Police. Jared applied the brakes hard enough to be able to make the turn without a problem, other than screeching the tires as he rounded the corner. “But that lady said they won’t believe us!” Jared said. “We’ve talked about this. What’s the worst thing that can happen? If they don’t believe us, we get back in the car and continue on our way,” Amy answered. The police station was about a mile down on the left. The building was very small. It looked like a satellite office and was probably manned by only a handful of people. There was an American flag out front with lights shining on it from the ground. Jared pulled into a parallel parking spot across the street so they could check it out before going in. The front of the building was

21

mostly glass, and there appeared to be only one officer inside. He was sitting behind a desk, reading a magazine. They sat for five minutes and watched for activity, but saw none. “Nothing much going on in there. You guys ready?” Jared asked. “Let’s hit it,” Nap answered. “Do we all go in? What if it’s a trap?” Amy asked. “I doubt it’s a trap. Both the silver haired guy and the lady in the car said they won’t believe us. Sounds like they’re trying to keep us away from the cops,” Jared said. Jared and Amy opened their doors at the same time and got out, followed by Nap, who got out on Amy’s side. They walked across the dark and empty street and into the light of the police outpost property. Nap got to the door first and held it open for the others, following close behind. They were not comfortable with how bright it was in the room and the fact that it was so easy to see in. They still had the concern of being followed, and now felt like they were in a fishbowl. They stood in front of the officer behind his large desk. He was a middle aged man with a medium build. He had a full head of dirty blonde hair and a mustache that was in desperate need of a trim. The desk only held a corded phone, a police scanner, a few pens, a closed laptop, two neat stacks of paper about an inch thick, and a half-eaten sandwich. He had a small bag of chips in his hand, and his attention was focused on a motorcycle magazine in front of him. He didn’t look up when they entered. They stood there for a few moments to be polite, and let him finish whatever it was he was reading, but quickly grew impatient when he didn’t acknowledge them. They looked at each other, confused over how to approach this man. Finally, Jared spoke up. “Excuse me, sir? Can we speak with you please?” “How can I help you,” he said in a monotone voice, never looking up from his magazine. “We were at the shooting today in Tampa.” “What shooting is that?” he asked, sounding unconcerned. Jared looked at him with even more confusion and then looked to Amy for help. “We were abducted from the scene. They gave us this fanny pack and let us out. They had us walk to a shopping center and

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take a car,” she said. Jared held up the fanny pack to show him. “Where’s the car?” the officer asked. “Outside,” Amy answered. The officer rose from his desk without saying a word, wiped a few crumbs of food from his mustache, and went around the desk without making eye contact with any of them. He led the way out the door, not holding it open for them as they followed. He saw the Mustang and headed straight for it since it was the only car in the area. When they were all across the street, the officer stopped and sized it up “Unlock the doors please,” he said. “It’s unlocked, sir.” Jared said. “You should always lock your vehicle when you won’t be with it, even if it’s for a short time. Thieves only need a short time to steal it,” he said. Amy and Nap looked at Jared as though they couldn’t believe he left the car unlocked. The officer opened the driver’s side door and got inside. He leaned over and opened the glove compartment. He pulled out a piece of paper, leaned back over and asked to see their ID’s. Nap and Amy quickly handed over their fake ID’s. Jared fumbled around with his wallet and gave him his real one, not even remembering he had a fake one. The officer took all three of them in his left hand and fanned them out. He held up the vehicle registration in his right hand, using the car’s interior light to see, and studied everything closely. After he was satisfied with what he was looking at, he put everything together in a pile and handed it to Jared. “According to the registration, this car belongs to you, Jared. It’s in your name and the address matches. You three better be on your way,” he said coldly, as he exited the vehicle. “On our way?” Jared said. Don’t you wanna look in the fanny pack? It’s got five thousand dollars in it! Aren’t you wondering where we got that much cash?” The officer made eye contact with Jared for the first time and started to become agitated. “There have been no reports of a shooting in Tampa today, or an abduction. If you have five grand in there I have to assume you worked hard to earn it, since I have no reports of anyone missing any cash either. Looks like today’s your lucky day,” he said sternly as they began to back away a few steps in fear.

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“Yeah but -,” Nap tried to interject, upsetting the officer. “Look! I will say this once; I…..can’t…..help…..you. Just get in your car and go,” he said, as he pulled out his night stick. “Drive away, kids. You have a car and you have money. Drive away. If you don’t, the people you love just might be in danger soon.” He moved to the side and the three quickly and nervously got in the car. Once they were inside, the officer walked around to the passenger side and motioned for Amy her to lower the window. He leaned down and handed her bracelet to her through the window. “You dropped this on the ground, Amy. Be careful, you don’t want to lose it.” “Don’t you mean, Matilda?” she asked slyly. He just looked at her blankly with no concern and stood up. Jared glanced over at the exchange and slowly pulled away from the curb. He looked both ways before turning around on the lonely road and heading away.

Hello all,

I have decided to release chapters of Dr. Rayther’s Game every couple of weeks in order to see what kind of feedback I get about the story.  It is written in a way that includes anyone from the age of 12 and above.  The writing style is quick and to-the-point without embellishment of too much in an effort to keep the focus on the fast-moving story.

The book actually came out in 2015.  I wrote the sequel, “Providence,” immediately afterward, and am very proud of the story and the depth of the main characters.  I hope you enjoy it.

 

THE FIRST CHAPTER

“Jared!” a voice called out from upstairs.

“Yeah Mom!” Jared  shouted.

“Can you go to the store for me?  We need milk and bread,” she said.

“Can I take the car?”

“No sweetie.  I know you just got your license and you want to drive, but I’m going out soon and I need it.  You can borrow it tomorrow though, so you and your friends can drive around town,” she offered.

“You guys want to go for a walk?” he asked.

“Sure, let’s get out for a little while,” Nap said.

“Ok Mom, we’ll be back later!” Jared yelled as he and his friends got up off the couch.  His mother was coming down the stairs as they were gathering their belongings.

“Thanks guys.  I have to meet with a new client so I’ll be home in a few hours,” she said as she gave Jared a soft hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Is that all you need at the store Mrs. Lagdon?” Amy asked.

“Yeah, I can pick up the big stuff when I do my real shopping.  See ya tonight,” she said as she handed Jared a folded up ten dollar bill and headed toward the kitchen.

“Love you Mom,” Jared said.

“Love you more,” she answered as she left the room.

Jared, Amy and Nap all checked their pockets, making sure they had their keys, phones and wallets before heading out the front door.  It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon in Tampa, Florida.  It was late October and the weather had just begun turning a little cooler than the typical ninety-three degree temperatures they had been used to since May.  

The store was only a short walk, not even a mile away.  They would walk four blocks down the street, turn right and walk about a half mile to get to the store.  They had been taking the same route since they were small and could do it blindfolded.  

“I love your mom.  She’s always been so nice to me,” Amy said.

“Yeah bro, you raised her well,” Nap said.

“She’s a good mom,” Jared said as they followed the walkway from the house to the sidewalk.

“She’s kinda hot too,” Nap said.

“Stop it Nap, that’s nasty,” Amy said with disgust.

“Why is that nasty?” he asked.

“Because we’ve known her since kindergarten and she’s been like a second mother to us.  You shouldn’t be talking about her like that!” Amy shot back.

“I’m just saying she’s an attractive lady, that’s all,” he answered.

“Dude, shut up.  That’s my mom,” Jared said, tired of the topic.  Jared was taller and more muscular than Nap, but between Jared and Amy, Nap was more intimidated by Amy.  Sometimes her temper could get the best of her, and Nap had been on the receiving end of it more than once.

“Ok bro, ok,” Nap said laughing.  “I’ll stop talking about your hot mommy.”

“Stop it!” both Amy and Jared yelled as they crossed the street.  

“So how do you think you did on the chem test yesterday?” Amy asked Jared.

“Probably failed again,” Jared answered with a smirk.

“You wouldn’t fail if you’d study,” Amy said.

“Why waste the time?  I’m a perpetual C student.  I’ll get by well enough to graduate.  That’s good enough.  I don’t need incredible grades to get into community college,” he said.

“You’re a perpetual C student because you never study.  Imagine how well you would do if you would just try,” she said.

“Oh don’t start this again.  We’ve had this talk before and it always ends the same way; you get mad at me because I don’t get all enthused about working harder in school and you don’t talk to me for three days.  Can’t we just agree to disagree on the subject?” he asked.

“No!” she said, looking down with her arms crossed.

“No?” Jared asked.

“No.  You’re better than this.  You can do anything you want in this world, but you don’t see that, so you won’t even try!  Look, I know it’s a taboo subject, but your dad died three years ago.  Since then you look like you’ve just stopped trying,” she said.

“Trying what?” he asked.

“Anything!  Baseball, football, studying; even videogames!  The moment you have to put any effort into something, you stop doing it.  Jared, you used to be a member of the National Honor Society.  After your dad died your grades dropped.  That was okay because you were going through a lot, but they never came back up.  You even stopped volunteering with Nap and me.  We all used to have fun volunteering.  It’s not the same without you,” she said.

“Amy, we’re just going to the store for some bread and milk.  Can we please do away with all this drama?  I really don’t appreciate you calling attention to all my failures in life,” Jared answered.

“But that’s just it!  They’re not failures!  They’re just you not trying to succeed.  There’s a big difference,” she said.

“What am I supposed to do?  Nothing interests me.  I can’t help it, I’m just bored,” Jared said, visibly angry.

“Aren’t you passionate about anything in this world?  If you had to pick one thing, what would it be?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he said, fed up with her conversation topic.

“But if you were required to pick something, what would it be?” she pressed.  

Amy had touched a nerve.  Jared’s eyes started welling up with tears and he began swinging his arms more powerfully as he walked, in an effort to let out pent up energy.  “My mom!” he finally burst out and said, wiping the tears from his eyes.  “I need to stay home to make sure my mom stays safe.  She’s all alone now and she’s all I’ve got.  I’ve gotta take care of her and make sure she’s okay,” he said, sobbing at the end and angry at Amy for causing all this emotion to come out.

“Okay, I’m sorry.  I should have known that part.  Jared, all I’m saying is, no one loved your dad more than you, but he’s gone.  Your life has to continue and move on.  You can’t live in the past, wishing he was around because that won’t change,” she said in a softer tone.  Jared finished wiping the tears away, and it was clear by his demeanor that he was done talking.  Amy gave him a minute to calm down and then got closer, rubbed his back for a moment and said, “Hey, friends ‘til the end.  Right?”  Jared attempted a smile and nodded as they walked.

Things stayed awkwardly quiet for the next few blocks as they cooled off.  Cars drove by occasionally, at least creating some noise to combat  the silence.

“Can we go back to talking about your mom being hot now?” Nap asked in a vain attempt to lighten things up.  As they walked a little further they took notice as a lime green sedan turned the corner a block ahead of them and stopped on the side of the road, facing their way.  It wasn’t unusual to see a car park on the side of the road, but it just sat there.  No one got out and the engine stayed on.  The windows were all tinted very dark, which again, wasn’t strange in Florida, but the windshield was just as dark and as reflective as the sides.

The kids remained silent as the car began moving slowly in their direction.  Since their attention was focused in front of them, they didn’t notice another sedan, this one black, two blocks back stalking them from behind.  As the car in front of them came closer, they noticed the rear driver’s side window come down half way.

“This doesn’t look right,” Nap said softly as they  approached a grey

compact car parked on their side of the street.  They slowed their pace to keep the car between them and the sedan.  As they watched the window, they saw the long barrel of a gun come out.  It fired almost immediately, blasting five bullets into the  grey car and shattering two of its windows.

The three kids fell to the ground with the first shot, leaning up against the grey car in desperate hopes it could protect them.  The gun continued to fire, shooting out two tires and riddling the car’s body with holes.  Every shot sounded like an explosion over their heads. The car vibrated every time it was hit.

They heard a car door open from across the street.  The three looked at each other, knowing they would need to run, only they didn’t know which direction to head.  The sedan had pulled up a little further than the parked car.  They could tell by locating the sound of the engine.  They were on the verge of getting up to run when the other car that had been following them pulled up in between the compact and the green sedan.  

The kids heard a few gunshots being exchanged, but there was no talking or yelling by anyone.  The black car pulled up around to the front of the compact and angled itself so the kids could see its nose.  Nap watched as the passenger side door opened.  At the same time, Amy felt something wet on her hand.  She looked down to see gas leaking from the underside of the car.  It had formed a stream on the ground and led right to her hand.

A very large man in a black suit leaned out of the car in a crouched position.  The car pulled a little further forward and the man got out on bent knees to open the back door.  Bullets were still flying over their heads.

“Get in!” he said in a deep, gruff voice.  Nap was the closest to him and didn’t give this man’s order a second thought before jumping in the back seat.  

    Amy followed closely behind Nap.  Jared had noticed the gas too, and paused.  “Come on kid!” the large man called.  Jared looked up at him, then looked back down and grabbed a fallen leaf on the ground and pulled a lighter out of his pocket.  He lit the leaf on fire, moved away from the gas, then dropped the leaf on it.  The gas ignited as Jared jumped in the car.  Flames quickly engulfed the vehicle, spewing black smoke everywhere.

    As they sped away, the first car, in an attempt to give chase, tried to swing around behind the car on fire when it violently exploded!  The car that had been on fire was ripped apart by the blast.  The only thing visible through the flames were the melted tires.  The explosion rocked the car that was trying to chase them.  The blast shattered all of its side windows and lifted the car briefly off its two side wheels.  All of the occupants were knocked out as the car’s bumper rolled to a stop against a fire hydrant, knocking it hard enough to send water streaming into the air!

   The black sedan sped as fast as it could down the picturesque residential street and away from the mayhem.  Jared, Amy, and Nap stayed hunched down in the back seat as the car made several quick turns.  They did their best to look up and see what was going on, but could only manage to see the tops of trees from their vantage point.  The windows were  tinted very dark, making it look much later in the day than it was.  The upholstery was black leather. The car was very clean and looked as though it had been vacuumed recently.  It crossed Jared’s mind that he had never thought kidnappers, or whoever they were, would care about having a clean car.

The car’s speed was increasing and the turns were becoming more intense.  They found themselves sliding against each other with every turn.  They finally hit a straightaway, where they began hearing a lot of car horns, apparently beeping at them.

“You can get up now if you’d like,” the driver said.  The three of them slowly raised their heads and looked into the front seat.  They climbed off each other and settled down, finally able to look around and see where they were.  The driver was a middle-aged man with a medium build.  He was wearing a dark blue suit.  His hair was brown on the sides and silver on top.  It was short, thick hair.  His eyes kept darting back and forth between the rearview mirror and the road.  He didn’t appear nervous at all.  He looked like a guy driving to work – albeit at breakneck speed.  There was a cup of coffee from a local coffee house between the driver and passenger seat.  It was odd to think these two  stopped off somewhere for coffee before arriving to abduct them.

Jared studied the man in the passenger seat through the side view mirror.  The man just sat there looking straight ahead, not seeming to be focusing on anything, or even necessarily paying attention to the situation.  His mouth was slightly open, and the natural posture of his face appeared to be a scowl.   His suit looked much older and beaten up than the driver’s.  He was a very large, wide man.  His body completely filled his seat from side to side. The kids sat for a moment, catching their breath and getting their bearings, not sure if they should engage in conversation.

“Who are you?” Jared asked with the ferocity of a field mouse and trying to sound tough.

“We just saved your lives; that’s who we are,” the driver said.  He spoke very quickly and very efficiently.   “Welcome to our little game.  I’m going to go through a rundown of what you are to do from this point on, so listen closely because it will not be repeated.  Shortly, we will be coming to a tunnel.  When we get to the tunnel, I will slow down and you will all exit the vehicle to the right,” he said.

The larger man then handed Nap a green fanny pack.  “My associate just gave you something we consider critical to your survival.  The contents of this are vitally important.  Keep it with you at all times.  Inside you will find five thousand dollars in cash.  Use the money wisely.  You will also find hair dye, scissors, a small flashlight, a compass,  matches, and a piece of paper with directions to your next stop.  Memorize the address during your time in the woods, and then use the matches to burn the paper,” he said.

“What are we supposed to use the money for?” Amy muttered.

“Survival.  That’s all you get, so don’t be wasteful.  Do not bother trying to use your cell phones as they have been disabled.  If you get anyone else involved, you will jeopardize their safety.  Remember that,” he said.

Now, when you exit the vehicle, continue through the tunnel and turn right off the road, go up the hill and into the woods.  Stay hidden there until nightfall.  When it’s dark, you can make your way to the address on the paper.  The directions will start at the end of the tunnel.  Go carefully and trust no one until you get there.  None of our operatives will be in contact with you until you arrive at your destination,” he said.

The three looked at the man with wide eyes as Nap struggled through his panic to say, “ We’re not doing  that.  Thanks for the help back there guys, but we gotta go to the store for eggs and milk!”

“Bread and milk, not eggs,” Jared nervously corrected Nap.

“Yeah, bread and milk.  Now let us out please,“ Nap said politely.

“If you three will kindly look out the rear window, you will notice a helicopter high up about a quarter mile back.  The men in that helicopter would very much like to speak with you.  If you’d like, I can pull over and let you out so you can take your chances with them.  I’m sure those men are also directing a car or two to our location.  Perhaps you’d like one of those cars to give you a ride to the store,” the driver said.

They looked back, saw the helicopter following them, then turned around and sat quietly.  “Now that we understand each other, the address in your pack will be for a strip mall a few miles away.  When you get there you will look for a brand new, black and shiny Ford Mustang.  Walk towards it.  Don’t look around, don’t delay, just walk towards it as if it is yours.  You will be intercepted by one of our operatives.  Do not hesitate when he approaches. He will walk past you and hand one of you the keys.  Do not speak to, or even look at this man.  He will not respond if you do.  Get in the car and drive away.  Use the money to stay hidden.  I’ll catch up to you when it’s safe to do so,” he said.

The kids sat nervously for a few moments until Jared spoke up.  “I just got my driver’s license yesterday.”

“Yeah, happy birthday,” the large man said with a thick New York accent and a huge amount of sarcasm.

“We know.  Looks like you will be the one driving, Jared,” the driver said.  Jared’s eyebrows dropped as he shyly asked, “How’d you know my name?”

“I know all your names.  Jared Lagdon, born and raised in Tampa, Florida.  Mother – Nancy; father – Edward.  Edward was a scientist who went missing three years ago. We’ll discuss that later.   Amy Botte.  Born in Atlanta, Georgia.  Moved to Tampa when you were four years old due to your father Bill’s job promotion.  Also a blue belt in karate.   Napoleon Bonaparte Jones.  Born in Miami and moved to Tampa at only six months of age when your parents, Robert and Alexandra divorced, citing irreconcilable differences.”

They looked at each other in shock, completely confused over this man’s knowledge of their lives.  Amy took a big gulp of air and asked, “Why can’t you just tell us what’s going on?  Can’t you drop us at the car so we don’t have to hide in the woods?”  

“Again – helicopter.  We’ll be coming up to the tunnel shortly.  I’ll slow down as much as possible to allow for your exit,”  he said.  As they rode along, the kids only saw woods on both sides of the road.  They had a fair idea of where they were, but they had never driven this road before so they weren’t sure of their exact location.

The car sped into the tunnel as the helicopter trailed closely behind.  The car entered the fifty-yard long tunnel at a speed of about sixty miles per hour.  As soon it was fully inside, the silver haired driver slammed on the brakes and got them down to ten miles per hour in a hurry.  They stayed on the right hand side of the road and saw two more vehicles identical to the one they were in, in the left lane.  They were sitting still, back to back with their engines revving.

“Go! Go! Go!  Right side!” the driver yelled.  Jared fumbled with the door, pushed it open and jumped out, followed closely by Amy and then Nap, clutching the fanny pack as he leapt.  They landed hard on the asphalt but were ok.  The big man in the passenger’s seat pulled the door shut from inside and all three cars took off at the same time, burning rubber and creating smoke to fill the tunnel as the kids struggled to get up from the hard asphalt.  

One car went back the way it came in; the car they had been in went straight out of the tunnel, and the other followed right behind it and took a left. The kids were suddenly all alone, stranded in a dark tunnel with exhaust fumes, dirt, and the smell of burnt rubber settling around them.  The sound of the helicopter was quickly fading, and they knew they couldn’t stay there long.

“So now what?” Amy yelled in a panic.

“We do what the man said for now,” Jared said.

“We don’t have a choice.  Let’s go,” Nap added.  As they started walking they heard a low rumbling noise coming from the other end of the tunnel.  It was a car’s engine.  

“Run!  Come on!” Jared said in a forced whisper, motioning them toward the end of the tunnel.  They had to make it about twenty yards before the car came into the tunnel.  It wasn’t far, but it seemed like a marathon!  They all hit full stride quickly.  When they got to the edge of the tunnel they took the corner as tightly as possible and kept running all the way up the hill as the silver haired man had instructed.  

The rumble was getting louder as they ascended the hill through tall grass and weeds.  The hill went up at a steep angle and they found themselves on all fours trying to get to the top as fast as possible.  When they finally got up and over the top, they hit the deck, landing on dirt and rocks.  They turned around while staying on their bellies, and saw a black car come slowly out of the tunnel.  It paused for a few moments at the edge and revved its engine.  The three put their heads down below the grass line and stayed that way as they heard the engine slowly get farther away.

“Was that a bad guy too?” Nap asked.

“Ya think?” Amy answered, sarcastically upset.

“Coulda been a good guy.  You don’t know,” Nap said.

“Right now we need to assume everyone’s a bad guy,” Jared added as he turned over on his back and tried to catch his breath.  “My mom’s gonna kill me when I get home!  I can’t believe this.  Any idea where we are?” he asked

“I think we’re somewhere between Fowler and Fletcher.  Not sure though.  We took some streets I didn’t know existed,” Amy said.

“We better get in the woods like the guy said.  I’m not comfortable out here with helicopters flying around trying to find us.  Let’s go,” Jared said.  They all got up looking dirty, confused and scared out of their minds, and double-timed it into the adjacent woods trying to disappear.

 

Have you ever had the chance to go back to the past and be better at something than you were?  Imagine, traveling back to your past and hitting a baseball better, throwing a football in a perfect spiral, or maybe being able to dance more smoothly.  I had a chance to experience something like this over the past couple of months without even realizing I was doing it until I was halfway through.

Three years ago I finished my first novel, Jared’s Island.  It took a long time to write and even a longer time to get up the nerve to let anyone read.  Finally in September, I published it on amazon.  The reviews were very good for the most part.  The criticism I got was mainly regarding the editing.  I had pulled it down once and edited what I believed to be wrong, then got it back online a fast as I could.  Again, the reviews that came it were good, but the editing was questioned.

By the time enough reviews had come in saying similar things, I had moved on to my next book.  I wrote and published my second book – with editing help.  Then I did the same with the third, learning a lot as time passed.  This year I decided it was time to make sure all of my writing was the way it should be.  I set three goals for the year.  I wasn’t happy with the cover of my second book, so I wanted to make it better.  Goal two was to finish my third book, since I was most of the way through it.  And my thrid goal was to go through Jared’s Island page-by-page, correcting everything wrong.

When I did, I quickly realized how much I had grown in my writing over the past three years.  By the time I was done I had removed six pages worth of unnecessary words, corrected countless errors, and re-worded many word choices.  It was not easy to admit that I had to go back and re-work my first book, but I felt I couldn’t move forward in my writing before I looked back once.

http://johnthayer11.wix.com/johnthayer

Today I went in to have some x-rays done for my Chiropractor.  When I went in, the tech asked me to put on the little robe that ties in the back, and then left for a few minutes to give me a chance to change.  While she was gone, I started looking at the x-ray machine, and then my mind wandered to thinking about people in hospitals.  Then I started to wonder how many people who had come in that room before me had already died.

After that, my mind went with the standard, “I wonder how long I’ll live.  Could be 40 years, 40 hours or 40 seconds, then POOF!  The tech came back in at that point and broke my morbid train of thought, and did her thing with the pictures for a few minutes.  She was pleasant and friendly, along with being very quick and seemingly knowledgable about what she was doing.

She took seven or eight x-rays and then left again to go check them to make sure they came out.   That left me more time for my mind to go to town.  I started thinking about possible radiation coming from the machine that maybe no one knew about.  Perhaps it was taking years off my life as I stood by it and I’d never know.  Then I wondered if there was a camera in there, so I started looking around above me, searching for a lense, behind which could be a whole room full of on-lookers wondering what was on my mind.

Finally, the tech came back in and announced we were done.  She left again so I could get dressed, and I began getting mind to calm down and put my thoughts in order.  It quickly dawned on me that there is a book idea in here, somewhere.  I’ve written adventure, but never suspense, horror or a thriller.  I’m not even sure what the exact idea would be about, but “There is a book in this room,” I thought.  Maybe it can be about perspectives.  Each chapter can be about a different person with a problem who comes in the room and has a different experience.  Perhaps a ghost story about a spirit who drives people crazy when they come in the room.  Or maybe it’s the crazy tech who keeps leaving the room!  Maybe every time she leaves the room she’s zapping the person in the room with loads of radiation!

There are so may possibilities with this.  My mind went on overdrive in this room, so it’s time to get a good story going.  This is why I love to write.  Ideas come out of nowhere when you’re not looking for them, sending the mind into a frenzy.

In 2011 I released my first book, titled Jared’s Island. It did pretty well, though the release was a little rushed due to my excitement, and it had grammatical errors in it. I pulled it shortly after the release and fixed them, but I didn’t get everything. A year after that I released my second book, The Jared Lagdon Files:Dr. Rayther’s Game. There were no errors in it, but it was released with a cover I was less than proud of. Then I started my third book, Providence. I went all the way through and got the first draft done, then the new year came and I realized I was digging myself into several holes, and putting out product that could be better.

My New Year’s resolution for 2015 became apparent. I knew what I had to do. I decided to dedicate the year, or at least as much of it as I needed, to fixing my mistakes. I had another book idea in my head, but I decided it could wait. I immediately turned my attention to fixing the cover of Rayther’s Game. Once that was done I immediately began to feel a burden lifting from my shoulders. I was happy with the entire book, which lifted my sense of pride in my work

There is a lot more I need to finish. My next goal is to finish Providence and get it out there. After that I am going to figure out how to expand my scope to people who have the chance to read my books. Currently, they are all on amazon and not getting seen very well due to the other 2 million books on the site. Next, I am going to go over Jared’s Island once more, line by line, editing whatever needs it. Then I’m going to create a website to showcase my work. Finally, after all of that is done, I’ll be looking for an agent. Hopefully, the pause in my writing will prove beneficial in the long run and I’ll be able to move forward with a vengeance going into 2016.

I was taught that someone’s signature is their mark of excellence, and that you don’t put anything out there with your name on it unless you’re proud of it. I think I just got so excited and impatient about getting my work out there, that I pushed aside the necessity of making it right. I’m not proud of it, but I’m also not ashamed of it. I’m human, and I’m taking this year to make things the way they should be before continuing my journey. I’m still extremely proud of my books. Rayther’s Game is a great story, and I love the cover now, too! It will be exciting to launch Providence soon, which is the sequel to Rayther’s Game. The story took on a life of its own as I wrote it, the same way Jared’s Island did.

I truly enjoy writing. It’s incredibly enjoyable to create something from nothing. Creating a character, making him or her speak with a specific personality and attitude, and then seeing this made up person appear in your mind, really is quite fascinating. The new book roaming around in my head is beginning to take shape. I have a few of the characters molded relatively well. I have the main idea of it, I just don’t have the plot. I need an objective for the characters. Figuring it out is all part of the fun.

In 2011 I released my first book, titled Jared���s Island. ��It did pretty well, though the release was a little rushed due to my excitement, and it had grammatical errors in it.�� I pulled it shortly after the release and fixed them, but I didn���t get everything.�� A year after that I released my second book, The Jared Lagdon Files:Dr. Rayther���s Game.�� There were no errors in it, but it was released with a cover I was less than proud of.�� Then I started my third book, Providence.�� I went all the way through and got the first draft done, then the new year came and I realized I was digging myself into several holes, and putting out product that could be better.

My New Year���s resolution for 2015 became apparent.�� I knew what I had to do.�� I decided to dedicate the year, or at least as much of it as I needed, to fixing my mistakes.�� I had another book idea in my head, but I decided it could wait.�� I immediately turned my attention to fixing the cover of Rayther���s Game.�� Once that was done I immediately began to feel a burden lifting from my shoulders.�� I was happy with the entire book, which lifted my sense of pride in my work

There is a lot more I need to finish.�� My next goal is to finish Providence and get it out there.�� After that I am going to figure out how to expand my scope to people who have the chance to read my books.�� Currently, they are all on amazon and not getting seen very well due to the other 2 million books on the site.�� Next, I am going to go over Jared���s Island once more, line by line, editing whatever needs it.�� Then I���m going to create a website to showcase my work.�� Finally, after all of that is done, I���ll be looking for an agent. ����Hopefully, the pause in my writing will prove beneficial in the long run and I���ll be able to move forward with a vengeance going into 2016.

I was taught that someone���s signature is their mark of excellence, and that you don���t put anything out there with your name on it unless you���re proud of it.�� I think I just got so excited and impatient about getting my work out there, that I pushed aside the necessity of making it right.�� I���m not proud of it, but I���m also not ashamed of it.�� I���m human, and I���m taking this year to make things the way they should be before continuing my journey.�� I���m still extremely proud of my books.�� Rayther���s Game is a great story, and I love the cover now, too!�� It will be exciting to launch Providence soon, which is the sequel to Rayther���s Game.�� The story took on a life of its own as I wrote it, the same way Jared���s Island did.

I truly enjoy writing.�� It���s incredibly enjoyable to create something from nothing.�� Creating a character, making him or her speak with a specific personality and attitude, and then seeing this made up person appear in your mind, really is quite fascinating.�� The new book roaming around in my head is beginning to take shape.�� I have a few of the characters molded relatively well.�� I have the main idea of it, I just don���t have the plot.�� I need an objective for the characters.�� Figuring it out is all part of the fun.