Part 2

“Alright.” I agreed, “Will a letter work for your Mother?”
“Yes, it should read…”
“We will work on it back at my apartment.” I interrupted continuing to Hannaford. “How did you even know to approach me? That I could help you?”
“I went to school with you. I was a year ahead, a senior, when the rumors started.” He said following me.
I groaned. I had been sixteen and in love. Influenced by the Ghost Whisperer I told my boyfriend, of three dates and one school dance, that I could hear and communicate with the dead. By Monday, he had told my secret to the entire school and that his taking me to the dance had been a pity date.
I walked quicker through the parking lot. My jaw started to hurt. “What side of the river are you on now?” I asked to stretch it.
“Troy. I was on my way back to see my Mother. She still lives in Waterford. You are not seriously going grocery shopping are you?” He demanded.
“The letter will wait until after. I will mail it with a post date of when you died.” I said as I pulled out a smaller, blue cart. I slung the bookbag into the cart as I pushed it through the doors.
“You still need to call the police and tell them where my body is.” He complained from behind me.
“I am about to do that.” I said walking straight to the payphone. It was opposite the door on the wall of the mens room. “I need your name, her name, and where your body is.”
“I am Andre Martin. My murderer is Sheena O’Rilley. My body is currently in the basement of her dealers’ house at 32 124th St. by a hole in the south wall.”
I dialed 911. The operator answered as they do. “I am calling on behalf of Andre Martin. Sheena O’Rilley killed him. His body is currently in the basement by a hole in the south wall at 32 124th St. in North Troy.” I said quickly then hung up.
“You know they can track those calls.” He said as I walked between the last register and the customer service counter. I ignored him. No good speaking to him in public and getting odd looks. I went and got the block of cheese first. I went down the back of the store, going into the cleaning aisle for the crock-pot bags. I picked up a small roast from the meat section. I went down the cookie and cracker aisle, grabbing a box of club crackers along the way. I went to the last aisle and picked up hummus and then carrots. Frozen carrots have no crunch and any extra carrots taste good in hummus too. I picked up four small fresh yellow potatoes. I walked back to the freezer section along the back of the store. I went down the alcohol aisle to the vegetables at the end by the register. I got a big bag of frozen peas and saw a bag of frozen chopped onions. I hate chopping onions, my eyes always cry no matter what trick I try. I put both in the cart, turned, and headed to the 14 items or less line as the police officer arrived. I grabbed a bottle of sweet tea from the cooler. The officer went to customer service, cutting in line in front of an old man. The employee used the phone to call someone. I placed my items on the conveyer belt to the cashier. When I turned back to see what was going on the manager was speaking to the officer while the customer service woman was helping the old man.
The haughty business-suit wearing male in front of me in line paid for his three items and took his plastic bag. “I will be putting in in my bookbag.” I told the cashier.
“Do you at least want this meat bagged?” He asked.
“Good idea.” I said pulling out the two library books. I put the meat on the bottom then the frozen vegis. Then in went the cheese, potatoes, carrots, and hummus. The boxes went on top of them and the books on top of it all.
He had left the tea next to the register but on my right side of it. I smiled at him pulling the arc notebook out of the front pouch of the bookbag. “How much total?” He told me and I paid him the money from my arc. The arc went back in the bookbag. I took my receipt and my tea. I glanced at where the officer and manager had been but they were out of sight. Most likely, in the office. I left the store and looked around for witnesses.
Nobody was in sight. “Andre you still with me?” I asked softly.
“Of course. I still need you to write the letter to my Mother.”
“I was just making sure. Not used to spirits being so silent.” I said walking around the edge of the parking lot along the river this time.
“I figured you wouldn’t speak to me with all those people around.” Andre said solemnly.
“You are correct. Now we can go back to my apartment. I will start the crock-pot and then we can type up your letter.”
“She will not accept a typed letter. I have no computer.” Andre said matter-of-factly.
I sighed. Rarely could I do this the easy way. “I know how we can work around that too. We just need to get back to my apartment first. Think about what you want to say in the letter while we go.”

Part 1

I received my most recent royalties check in the mail today. I opened the chest freezer and realized I needed to go to Henry’s to stock up on meat. I took my collapsible shopping cart from its place under the table against the chest freezer. I put the check in my arc notebook in my mini backpack. I added my surface, because I might need it. I put my cellphone in my right front pocket and after locking the door, the key went into my left pocket.

First, the long walk to Pioneer bank to deposit the check. I took out two hundred in cash and deposited the rest. Enough to go to Henry’s Meat Market and get their Plan D, a shepherd’s pie, and an iced tea. I started planning a menu. The roast first, in the crock-pot, tomorrow night after a second shopping trip to Hannaford. That would last me a few days. Tonight a simple pork chop with applesauce. Humming to myself, I walked passed McDonalds and right up to the door before I realized Henry’s was closed. There were no lights on inside. No meats or products visible. The shelves were bare. The coolers visible on the far side of the shop were empty.

I walked quickly next door to the hardware store. “When did Henry’s close?” I asked.

The woman in the box with the registers answered “About a month ago.”

“That sucks. What happened?”

“The owner in Vermont decided to close the store.”

“Thank You.” I said with a sigh.

“I miss their cheeseburger sub.” The woman answered wistfully as I walked out.

I was upset. I walked over to Stewart’s and got a double scoop chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream cone. Dragging the still folded cart behind me with my left hand, I went back to my apartment eating the ice cream along the way.

I finished chomping on the cone as I reached the door to my studio apartment. I switched hands for the collapsed cart to pull out the key. Then I opened the door and went in. I just leaned the cart against the dresser behind the door as I closed it. I would need it tomorrow or perhaps later today. I really wanted the roast. I placed my mini backpack onto the dresser with the key and cell phone.

I sat on the sofa next to the dresser and looked around my studio apartment. I kicked off my shoes and warmed my feet over the hot air forced vent in the floor. There was still a bit of winter chill and slush from our last storm. The bottom of my flannel pants had gotten wet too. I stood and went to the second left dresser drawer. I pulled out another pair of flannel pants and quickly changed. I walked passed the bathtub and dropped the pants into the washing machine. It was about two-thirds full. No need to run it yet.

I followed the clothesline diagonally across the apartment to use the toilet. Once done, I crossed the apartment to wash my hands in the kitchen sink next to the wine chiller. I crossed the apartment again, back to the freezer. I pushed aside a box of Thin Mints. Pulled up a package of ribs that came in a plan C I had bought last year to find a package of Bone in Chicken Breasts. I dropped the ribs and checked the other side of the freezer. Another chop, a steak, and a package of stew beef. I slammed shut the top of the freezer in frustration. It was too near empty.

The cellphone chimed. I walked over to it and looked. A new email. From the Waterford Library. My books were ready to be picked up. I put the phone back onto the dresser. I looked around the apartment again and sighed. I grabbed the nearly full bookbag from against the wall on the corner of the dresser. I took my surface and arc from the mini backpack and put them in the front pouch of the bookbag.

Not being in the mood to be helpful I plugged the ear buds into my phone. I picked the Irish Pub Rock Radio on Pandora, hefted the bookbag, and once again headed out.

I returned fourteen books to the library and picked up two. I walked out the front door and down Third Street debating. I could easily walk to Hannaford and get what I needed for a good meal tonight. I had room in the bookbag. Buying frozen vegis instead of fresh would keep the roast cold. A couple potatoes. More crock-pot bags. A small sweet tea to drink on the way back, not a two-quart bottle. Some hummus and crackers for a snack. On the other hand, a block of Colby Jack cheese would be good. I might have room to get both actually.

I looked to my left over the Hudson River. Distracted by the thoughts of food shopping I had headed straight towards Hannaford. I leaned on the rail and just looked upriver. The Sick Note began playing and I grinned. I stood there just listening to the story song. When it was over, I pulled out my cell phone, turned off Pandora, and pulled out my earbud. I stuffed the mess into my pocket.

“Hello.” I jumped and spun to the right. Nobody was there. “About time.” The disembodied voice said.

“I don’t suppose you will wait here until after I am done grocery shopping?”

“No.” He said like a petulant child.

I sighed. They were never willing to wait. “What would you like me to do for you?”

“I need to tell my Mother she was right.” He said earnestly. “And I need to tell the police where my body is before she can get rid of it.”

NaBoBloMo Warnings

The month of April is National Book Blogging Month aka NaBoBloMo. It is also Camp NaNoWriMo. Every day this month, I will be writing a blog post of about a thousand words. The main topic will be my new occult detective Tiffany Sibyl Tien. Should any of  the Terrible Minds challenges fit for Tiffany I will write them up too.

 

On Wednesdays, There will be no short story post. Instead, I will have my usual Young Living Experience post. They all can be found at http://slwhyounglivingexp.blogspot.com/

 

Posts this month will be without beta readers. Please do not judge too harshly.

Flight timed out

I was in my shop on the northern edge of the coins when a young news runner raced in and back out with holler of “… is attempting the Test…” I laughed, shaking my head. He was so over excited.

It was a nice day outside. I was alone in my shop so I decided to close up and join the crowd of onlookers. There was always a crowd whenever someone attempted the Test of the Starstone. Business had been slow for a while, not unusual for a specialized shop like mine. Absalom might be the city at the center of the world but firearms are still explosive, expensive, exotic weapons untrusted by many.  Perhaps I could drum up some new business in the crowd. At the very least, I could get another idea for crossing the chasm.

Eventually I wanted to attempt the Test of the Starstone myself and become the first God of firearms. The first true gnome God. I fondled the cubic die with seven pips on the one side in my pocket while exiting the shop. I locked the door and lovingly stroked the bronze female mask upon it. Not only there to symbolize that my shop crafted items on commission but also to attach a glyph of warding to, making the rune on the forehead glow.  If anyone tried to get into my shop while I was gone, the sonic blast from the glyph shouldn’t do too much damage.

The walk wasn’t very long. I had set up my shop as close to the Starstone Cathedral as I was able without having to pay for the Ascendant Courts higher property values. The crowd was gathered towards the right, by Arodens fallen bridge. It was not too large yet and I was able to make my way close to the front so as to not be blocked by taller people.

Standing on the edge of the bottomless pit surrounding the Starstone Cathedral was a female catfolk. She faced the crowd that had gathered to watch her with a toothy grin. She was practically purring from the attention. I was too far away to know for sure if the black stripes on her white fur face were natural or dyed.

After a long time, with the crowd doing nothing but growing, a halfling in plain black robes pushed his way next to me. Someone directly behind us shouted “Speech.” A few more voices took up the shout, which quickly turned into a chant. The halfling beside pulled out an inkpen and traveling journal. The feline held up her hands shoulder high and waved at the crowd. The crowd went silent.

“My name is Vanus. I am a summoner.”

My first thought ‘you’re going to die.’

“I have defeated demons at the Worldwound. Slain a dragon.”

‘A wyrmling?’

“I got this cloak from a worm that walks.”

‘How much gold did that cost her?’ I wondered as she twirled to show the cloak off.

“I recently slew a pack of moon dogs on my way here.”

‘How Many? Three?’

“Now I am going to cross this and enter the Starstone Cathedral.” She said as a griffon flew on an updraft from the chasm to land beside her.

‘It’s about time.’ I glanced at the halfling next to me and saw his brief notes. Vanus. Catfolk. Griffon rider. “Really?”

“Let’s see.” The halfling said with a grin.

I turned back to see the want-to-be goddess struggle up on the griffons bare back.

As I watched the griffon take off, and fly once around the crowd before heading straight towards the Cathedral, I thought. ‘If she was such a powerful summoner why didn’t she summon an air elemental instead? They fly so much better.’ When the female griffon flew over me, I saw the single set of breasts as opposed to the lines of nipples most cats had. ‘Had she been trying for a catfolk version of Mother-Sphinx?’

At the edge of the chasm, the griffon got caught by an updraft and threw the catfolk off trying to regain its own stability. Vanus landed on her feet at this side of the chasm. “Come here.” She yowled at the griffon. It landed beside her and she once again clambered onto its back.

The wind shear would not be the same. It changes just as the inside of the Cathedral changes configuration. The griffon, obviously not knowing that, overcompensated and the summoner nearly flew herself over the griffons head. Nobody has succeeded in obtaining godhood through the Test of the Starstone in eight hundred eighty-five years, not since Iomedae, and it did not look like that streak would be broken.

A gust of wing caught the griffons’ left wing, causing the beast to roll over in the air. The catfolk hung on for dear life. Many in the crowd gasped and cheered when the griffon righted itself with her still on its back.

As the wind buffeted its right wind, the griffon seemed to stagger in midair like a drunk walking over cobblestones. Hard to believe that Cayden Cailean passed the Test of the Starstone on a drunken bet.

A gust of wind blew the griffon back once it finally neared the far edge. The gust blew the griffon nearly into the rim of the chasm in front of us. Vanus flung her legs back, ready to jump off back onto the ground in front of us if necessary. At least she had good reflexes. She would need them in a demiplane where magic was known to not always behave normally. That was if she could get the beast to the other side.

The griffon flapped its wings and tried once again to get through the gale. It was nearly to the other side when in a burst of light it disappeared. The summoner plummeted then her descent slowed.

“Feather fall won’t save her.” I mumbled.

“Perhaps we can finally find out how deep it is.” The halfling said stepping close to the edge as the crowd dispersed.

“Is griffon rider going to be on her monument in the Shrine of the Failed?”

“No.” The halfling said then looked me in the eyes. “Any ideas on how you are going to be using your firearms in the water hazards?”

“None I am willing to share.” I said grinning and turning to return to my shop. “Besides, first tests first.”

“Indeed.” The halfling said behind me.

Aroden became a God when he raised the Starstone from the ocean. It is only natural that water hazards would be present during the Test of the Starstone. Alas, water and gunpowder did not work together.

 

The Gallows Girls

Their mothers water broke as the lynch mob came for her. Screaming in pain and fear, they led her to the gallows. They strung up the pregnant woman for stealing, whoring, and witchcraft. When they let go the trap door her neck broke cleanly when her body jerked to a stop and the first of twin girls popped came out screaming.

The sheriff, who not thinking a lynch mob would hang a woman in labor, arrived with the doctor. The doctor, knowing of the second child the woman carried, reached in and pulled it from her lifeless corpse. He then cut the umbilical cords. He slapped the second daughter to make her breath as well.

Nobody knew who the father was. It was questionable if the mother had even known. She never told a soul if she had. The doctor took the newborn girls back to his office.

 The next day the doctor, sheriff, and the preacher went door-to-door asking the ladies of the town to take the twins. All refused. Even the whores refused.

The newborns were fed goats milk by the doctor, baptized Grace and Faith Gallows by the preacher. Full of guilt, the sheriff agreed to help and the three men raised them as their own.

Aural Myiasis

I have Meniere’s disease so when the ear pain and tinnitus started I thought I was just having a flare up. The buzzing noise was new but I assumed it was just the beginning of hearing loss associated with Meniere’s disease. My ear felt full, like it was underwater; but, again, that was normal. My ear itched like something was crawling in it; but, while not the norm, I didn’t think much about it. When the blood oozed out of my ear I realized this is not my Meniere’s disease acting up. This was something new. The pressure did not feel like it could have ruptured my eardrum. I could still hear; so, it could not have been that bad. I called my ENT and made an emergency appointment anyway.

An hour later, I was sitting on the exam table. The doctor put the otoscope in and looked. She gagged; and, dropping the light, quickly backed away. Stammering she said, “Let me get someone,” and rushed out the door.

I sat there stunned. What had she seen? What could be so bad as to cause her to gag?

The door opened. One of the other doctors I had seen around the office entered, and said, “I need you to remain calm. This is something we can hopefully easily fix.” He tried to sound soothing. Do doctors not know that saying the word “calm” can cause people to have the opposite reaction? “I will be taking over as the previous doctor is unable to handle your current infestation.”

“Infestation?” I asked, with the buzzing I was hopeful I had heard him incorrectly.

“Yes,” he said with a sigh. “Now the procedure is simple…

“Infestation of what?” I screeched.

“Please, allow me to explain,” he continued robotically.

I took a deep breath and again, softly, asked, “Infestation of what?”

“Are you sure you want to know, ma’am? I can take care of this rare condition without giving you the details. It is unlikely that there will be a repeat infestation so long as it is properly taken care of.”

“Infestation of what?” I demanded.

“Maggots.”

I started shaking, “Get them out now,” I whined. I felt tears running down my cheeks. The itching I had been feeling since yesterday must have been them moving around in my ear… moving in my head. “Get them out,” I screamed.

‘I will,” he said in his calm, robotic voice. He pulled open a drawer and pulled out a light blue plastic cloth like dentists use. Draping it over my shoulder he continued, “I will not stop until they have all been removed. Please sit still so I can look in your ear.” He put the otoscope into my ear and looked. Then he went to a drawer and pulled out a petri dish and a pair of tweezers. “I am going to take these forceps and remove the ones in your outer ear. I will place them into the petri dish for testing.”

“Testing for what?”

“For classification mostly,” he said as he put the tweezers in and pulled one out. He lifted the lid off, placed the small, squirming maggot inside, and covered it. Then he went back into my ear for another.

The door opened and a male nurse came into the room backwards, “Doctor Smith said you would need saline solution for an ear irrigation.” The nurse was carrying a tray with syringe, one of those kidney-shaped bowls that was empty, another bowl filled with a clear liquid, and a lot of gauze pads.

“Yes that will be the next step,” The doctor said pulling a third maggot from my ear. “You can just put it next to the sink. Make sure they have her scheduled for the CT,” he continued going back in with the tweezers again.

“I will come back when they are ready for her,” The nurse murmured, putting his hand over his mouth and rushing out the door.

“Seems like you have the strongest stomach here,” I said trying to distract myself from my own nauseousness. 

“I have done this once before,” he stated simply. “That’s the last one I see,” he advised taking the petri dish to the counter. “Now I have to irrigate,” he said with his back to me. Walking back with the two bowls from the tray, the syringe in the empty one, he continued, “It does not seem like they passed through the ear membrane.”

 “Can you hold this?” he asked, handing me the bowl of liquid.

“Sure,” I said taking it with shaking hands.

“Just sit still,” he said balancing the curved bowl on my shoulder against the side of my face under my ear. “I am going to take some of the saline solution from the cup with this syringe and then just spray it in your ear,” he said filling the syringe. “It will dribble out and into the bowl on your shoulder. It will feel odd but not painful.”

As he began, there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” he said while still putting liquid in my ear.

An elderly woman came in and said, “I am supposed to take her for a CT scan doctor.”

“Give me a few moments to finish irrigating her. Can you assist by using the gauze pads to wipe beneath her ear?”

“Of course,” she said picking up the gauze from the tray next to the petri dish. She approached and with a friendly smile began wiping the liquid from below my earlobe.

The doctor refilled the syringe four times before he was satisfied with the cleaning.  He explained, “Once they do the CT scan, I will review the results.  We will then see where we have to go from there. It will take an hour or so.  During your wait I don’t want you to eat or drink anything in case of the worst case scenario. Do you have something to occupy your time?”

“I have my phone,” I answered as he took the half-empty bowl from my hands.

“I will see you again soon,” he said handing me off to the elderly woman.

Ukobach V Level 3 Elf Ranger

I decided it would be safer to stay away from these humanoids until they found a way to leave the shell. If they took my hoard so be it. I was not going anywhere for a long while. I could build it up again. I carefully closed the fighting fan. This I would keep close; as a remembrance of the last person I would ever speak to. I looked carefully around the vault to make sure no others were in the area. Then I made my way quickly to the head. I was nearly there when a call came from my left “You there.”

I turned and saw an elf. Elves live long lives. We could be friends here for centuries. “Hello.” I called joyfully waving the closed fan at him.

He scowled. “Where did you get that fan?”

“From a halfling I recently had a conversation with.” I answered.

“That is Sumaks fan.” The elf said angrily pulling a bladed weapon similar to a scimitar from a sheath on his back. He menaced me with the blade. “Where did you get it?”

“From a halfling I recently had a conversation with.” I repeated imploringly.

“Lying evil outsider.” He growled and sliced me in two with his blade. As the blue sky turned a dark, molten red I knew I was finally going home.

@@@@ Battle Summary:

Ukobach Starting HP 16 AC 17

Ranger Starting HP 30 AC 19

Round 1: 19 to attack, 9 damage, critical confirmed with a critical for 8 more damage and then confirmed again for another 4 damage. Total damage 21 so Ukobach dies.