“Unicorns and Monsters Are Upstairs”

Posted on May 8, 2013 by

“Unicorns and monsters are upstairs,” said the giant to Aiden.

Aiden’s heart raced. His adventure was about to begin.

Eager to give battle to any monsters that might be lurking on the second floor, Aiden quickly clambered up the huge steps. As there was no sense in remaining in the open, however, he quickly sought cover under the first of three giant tables once he reached the top of the stairs. It was a fortuitous action, for lying by a chair leg was a yellow sword sharpened to a keen point. He picked it up and jabbed at an imaginary monster, testing the sword’s weight and balance.

Aiden paused as he slashed the air for he heard footsteps on the staircase. A princess, escorted by a lady giant, was making her way to the second floor. She was in search of a unicorn, no doubt. The giant led her to the third table at the back of the room.

“Are you going to be all right here?” said the giant as she lifted her onto one of the huge chairs.

The princess nodded in the affirmative and the giant patted her on the head. She paused at the second table and then descended the stairs.

Aiden peered through the chair legs to get a better look at the princess, but froze when he saw several monsters lounging atop that middle table between him and her highness. He gripped his yellow sword and screwed his courage to the sticking place. Stealth and surprise were his one advantage. Slowly and quietly he eased a chair away from the table far enough to allow him to wriggle out from underneath. Dropping to his belly, he slithered his way right up to where the monsters were gathered. He counted five in all and despite the fact that the one in the middle had three eyes, none of them had apparently spotted him.

With a sudden leap and a “HI-YA!” he lunged at the three-eyed monster in the middle, sending him sliding backwards across the table.

The princess, who was apparently unaware of the mortal danger she was in, screamed upon realizing her predicament. Aiden slashed to his right sending two monsters onto the floor. The two monsters on his left were so awed by Aiden’s bravery that they simply fell over in a dead faint. Breathing hard, Aiden jabbed at them with his toe, but they did not move. He stood triumphant on top of the table.

The princess giggled.

Heavy footsteps quickly ascended the stairs. It was a giant. An angry giant. An angry giant whom Aiden knew very well.

“Aiden Gregory, what is going on up here! Get down off that table right now and quit waving that pencil around! Pick up all those books. You come down here and apologize to Christine!”

The princess giggled again and went back to reading her book.

“Sounds as if you had a grand adventure up there,” said Christine, the owner of the book store.

“Yes, but I’m sorry that I made a [here Aiden looked at his mother seeking a prompt for the appropriate word, which he received, albeit in a slightly distorted way] disturvance.”

“Well, that’s the beauty of books,” said Christine as she placed Monsters in the Alley in a bag and handed it to Aiden’s mother. “They carry us away.”

“C’mon Aiden. We have more errands to run. Thanks Christine, and sorry for the ruckus.”

“Not at all! I wish all my patrons were so enthusiastic.”

Aiden and his mom left. Meanwhile, upstairs, the princess was riding a unicorn across a rainbow.

At a recent book signing at the Winchester Book Gallery, David Stinson and I heard Christine, the owner, say to a young patron “Unicorns and monsters are upstairs.” David remarked about what a great line that was, and so it is that he and Christine deserve credit for inspiring this story!

Posted in Five Minute Fiction for Free | Tagged , , | 6 Comments

The Dumbest Show on Television

Posted on April 24, 2013 by

I’m not a big fan of reality television. (Of course, I’m not a big fan of reality, either.) Most of it is clearly scripted and not all that novel. Of all the brain-draining reality shows on television, none instantly lowers the IQ further than Ghost Adventures. Each week Zak Bagans goes looking for spirits from the NetherWorld and remarkably, each week he finds one, and always an evil one at that.

According to Wikipedia—and I’m not making this up—“Bagans has been criticized for the aggressive and confrontational methods he uses during investigations.” His response is that he “only provokes evil entities in order to elicit responses.” It has apparently never crossed Bagans mind that he is creating a vicious circle. I’d be evil, too if some great idiot entered my house with a camera crew in the middle of the night and started provoking me.

If Ghost Adventures is true “reality” then we can objectively conclude that all evil spirits are completely incoherent. Inevitably, Bagans hears some noise, one that sounds suspiciously like the cameraman accidentally bumping into the china closet, and immediately hollers that the ghost has declared, “I know you I kill!” (It naturally follows that an incoherent ghost would demonstrate syntactical difficulties.) We know that the ghost has declared, “I know you I kill” because that’s what the written translation at the bottom of the screen clearly reads. Later in the show, we find out from the owner of the property that in fact, someone was killed on this site when a propane gas tank exploded on the patio during a cookout and a party guest was horribly shish-kabobed to death when skewers were sent flying in all directions. It now occurs to me that the ghost might actually be saying, “Don’t go near the grille!” but I still think the noise sounded more like the cameraman bumping into the china closet.

We can also conclude that ghosts are remarkably similar to those college dorm posters from the ‘70s only instead of showing up under a black light, these ghosts require that official ghost hunting green light to appear. Apparently, only when the green light is on will a ghost zip past a crew member, although “the ghost” looks suspiciously like the reflection from the cameraman’s watch face. Remember the kid in 5th grade who would catch a sunbeam on his watch face and then wiggle the reflection up and down in the eyes of a girl he claimed he didn’t like, but really did? That kid grew up to be the cameraman on Ghost Adventures, but I digress.

Now that Bagans and his clumsy crew have thoroughly riled up this week’s ghost, they simply pack up without so much as a “Thank you Mr. Ghost for your time,” and head off to another spot next week, where they will proceed to annoy the Hell out of some other poor unsuspecting spirit who no doubt longs for some company, but not for the kind who runs through his house knocking over the knick knacks in the china closet.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 7 Comments

He Ain’t Heavy, He’s An Idiot

Posted on April 8, 2013 by

Kyle straightened up, leaned on his hoe, and peered at the cloudless sky.

“When in the hell are we gonna get any rain,” Kyle half-asked and half-exclaimed.

“That’s why we don’t get any,” said his brother “Wrench” who was hoeing the next row of cantaloupes which were starting to show stress from the dry weather.

“What’s why we don’t get any rain?”

“‘Cause you’re always cussin’ out here and God don’t like it.”

Wrench issued this statement, not in an attempt to make a theological point, but in an attempt to irritate his brother. Wrench succeeded.

“You know what I don’t like, Wrench? Having a @#$%*&^ moron for a brother.”

Kyle and Wrench and Jason, their other brother who was at the moment minding the roadside store in which they sold their cantaloupes, melons, corn, tomatoes, and other produce, had a love for each other born from planting, hoeing, and harvesting for over 30 seasons together. So strong was their bond that they would happily die for each other; that is if they weren’t trying to kill each other first. Their pranks, dares, and arguments that were settled in a variety of sometimes creative, and often physical means was just their way of showing affection.

Kyle and Wrench finished their hoeing and headed to the store, anxious to sit in the air-conditioning and check the latest weather forecast.

“There were thunderheads to our west,” Jason informed them when they entered, “but they broke up comin’ over the mountain.”

“You know why it don’t rain here; ‘cause Kyle’s always cussin’ that’s why and God ain’t gonna let it rain until Kyle becomes a better person.”

Sensing Kyle’s irritation, Jason promptly agreed with Wrench. “That’s right, Kyle, you cuss too *&^@#$% much.” This bit of irony was lost on Wrench, however, for he had already become absorbed in reassembling a carburetor, the parts of which were spread across a table at the rear of the one-room store. There was not a piece of equipment on the farm that Wrench couldn’t fix, hence the nickname for the brother originally christened, “Donovan James Braddock.”

The Weather Channel which ran endlessly on a small television in the corner was promising a 30% chance of rain the next day and Kyle took some solace in this prediction. Of the three brothers, it was he who had gone to college and received his agricultural degree which made him the de facto CEO of Braddock Produce and thereby the Worrier-in-Chief as well.

“Shut up and listen!” Kyle exhorted his brothers when The Weather Channel promised an updated forecast. “I know they’re gonna say the chance of rain tomorrow is 100 @#$%*&^ per cent!”

Instead, however, The Weather Channel’s forecast had reduced the likelihood of rain to 10%.

“Way to go, Kyle. Now they took out the 30% chance of rain for tomorrow and we’re down to nothin’. It’s all your cussin’ that’s causin’ this drought.”

Kyle, who was now hotter than the sheet metal roof on the wagon shed didn’t say a word. He simply rose, took some wrenches and pliers from the table where the carburetor lay half- assembled, and walked out.

“Where in the hell is he goin’?” Wrench asked, but Jason could only shrug.

Soon, however, they heard a loud commotion coming from Wrench’s yard, which was next to the store. They ran over only to find Wrench’s wife, Katie, on the back porch doubled over with laughter and Kyle on his hands and knees, hurling one invective after another down the uncapped well.

“What are you doin’?!”

“I’m dryin’ up your well water you–” and here I will pause and allow the reader to use his or her imagination as to what words Kyle directed towards his brother and which ones went down the well. Regardless of their direction, each was enunciated with such inflection and enthusiasm as to make a sailor on leave applaud. Or blush.

“There!” said Kyle, shouting one last anatomically impossible command down the well. “Now your well’s dry, too. Katie, you can come take a shower at our house tonight, but not this idiot!”

“Kyle, everybody knows that cussin’ don’t dry up ground water, only rain clouds. Why–”

But Wrench didn’t have time to finish his thought. He recognized a certain look in Kyle’s eye, a look that he first saw as a small boy and which signaled the kind of danger that can only emanate from a big brother, which is why Wrench took off running down past the barn with Kyle only slightly behind.

You wouldn’t think that two men who had spent the afternoon hoeing long rows of cantaloupes under a searing sun could run that far or that fast, but those two did. One of them was laughing all the way while the one in hot pursuit left a blue streak in his wake. It was just another day at the Braddock farm.

Posted in Five Minute Fiction for Free | Tagged , , , , , , , | 12 Comments

Familiar Faces in Florida

Posted on March 23, 2013 by

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAI have often said that baseball is a small world and this fact was illustrated again on our recent trip to Florida. We were seated in left field at Ed Smith Stadium in Sarasota enjoying the game, surrounded by a variety of fans from all over the country. A few were even from Florida. A contingent associated with the Puerto Rican World Baseball Classic team was seated several rows in front of us. About the 6th inning or so, one of these young men rose and made his way towards us. I wasn’t really watching him and was startled to hear, “Austin; do you remember me?” It was Richie Gonzalez, who was New Market’s second baseman in 2009 and is featured prominently in Safe at Home: A Season in the Valley. We exchanged pleasantries and am happy to report that Richie is now coaching in Puerto Rico.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Yes, that’s an actual bobble head.

Along about the bottom of the 7th, a couple sat down next to us and the lady turned and said, “You guys did the video last year at Twin Lakes Park. We saw you earlier and recognized your shirts.” I’m not sure why she would have remembered us from our shirts–judge for yourselves from the photo–but she was referring to Episode Two of Off the Beaten Basepaths and we certainly remembered talking to her.

It was a fun trip all around and in addition to seeing the Orioles defeat Toronto 11-10 on a 3-2, 2 out, 3 run homer by Ryan Flaherty in the bottom of the 9th (an omen, I believe) we also saw the University of Florida defeat the University of Indiana in Gainesville, and the Phillies defeat the Astros (just as everyone else will this season) in Kissimmee. Another highlight, which was actually non-baseball related, was eating fried gator at Gator Joe’s Bar and Grille in Ocklawaha right on Lake Weir. Gator Joe’s is about 300 yards from the hide out where federal agents shot it out with the infamous Barker Gang in 1935.

The biggest highlight of the trip, of course, was spending a week with Al and Margo Smith in their beautiful new home in Stonecrest. Good thing they like company because they’re going to be seeing quite a bit of us in the future!

Considering that as I write this, the weather people are calling for up to a foot of snow starting tomorrow, you may want to venture to Florida in spirit by viewing the photo album of our trip.

Posted in Baseball in General | 8 Comments

Living Life at the 98th %tile

Posted on March 8, 2013 by

Harry Dombrowski was still sweating a bit from his half mile walk around the pond. He sat in his big chair which was so arranged that he could see the door to his apartment, the television, and out his large 4th floor window which looked over the campus of the Pleasant Knolls Senior Living Center. He raised a bottled water to his lips. For an instant a wave of frozen cold paralyzed him and in the next moment, there was a knock at the door. He rose slowly, not because he was that tired, but because that’s how he did everything these days. He opened the door.

“It’s about time you got here!” said Harry. “Come on in!”

“I usually don’t get such a happy reception.”

“Well, I’m 98 and I’m wearing myself out trying to keep ahead of you, but you were going to have to catch me, Mr. Death. I wasn’t stoppin’ for you!”

“Please Harry; you don’t have to be so formal. Call me Benny.”

“Why Benny?”

“Because that’s my name.”

“Okay, Benny, but I like calling you Mister Death because you gotta be the only person older ‘n I am. Have a seat.”

“No thanks, Harry. I won’t be long.”

“Well, I’m sittin’ down. I’m 98, ya know.”

“Yes, you said. Actually, you’re 98 years, 7 months and four days; or you were, but who’s counting?”

“Ha! Sounds like you are. Well, tell me, Mr. Death, er Benny, why today?”

“What do you always say? You thought it this morning while walking around the pond.”

“That it’s a great day to be alive, and that makes it a great day to die! But I say that almost every day, so why this day?”

“Tomorrow on your walk, you would have tripped on that curb just outside the building here; you know, the one that’s been broken up for six weeks and for which the work order keeps getting lost? They would have taken you to the hospital, and those places are so full of germs even I hate to go in ‘em. There you would have contracted an infection that would have led to congestive heart failure and the whole messy business would have taken three weeks.”

“Mmm, well, thanks Benny, thanks.” Harry reached out and patted Death’s shoulder in appreciation. “So, why are you looking out for me like that? Plenty of folks around here have gotten infections, broken bones, Alzheimer’s; it’s awful. Why spare me?”

“I always took a special interest in you. Mind if I grab a water out of your fridge? It’s warm today.”

“Help yourself.”

“Anyway, you viewed every day as a gift. Almost every day, at any rate. Your record–”

At this point, Benny pulled out his smart phone and punched an app or two and scrolled a bit and then continued, “Your record of viewing 72.4 percent of your days as gifts puts you in the 98th percentile. It was worth seeing how long you could keep that up, and except for that time ten years ago, you’ve done a remarkable job.”

“You mean when Clare died?”

“Yes and your days became a burden to you instead of a gift. Understandable, but I wanted to see if you really believed that every day really is a gift, even days without Clare. It saddened me when it appeared that I would have to end the experiment, so to speak. You were determined to hang on through your granddaughter’s wedding–she looked beautiful by the way–”

“She did, didn’t she!”

“–And you deserved to see her married, but I was ready to take you that night. I had one more test to run, however. Remember when the DJ put on ‘Jersey Bounce’?”

“I remember! They were playing all that jumpin’ jibber-jabber music and out of the blue . . . I guess some other old-timer must have requested that song!”

“Ha! Someone much older than you!”

“Was that you Benny?!”

“It was. When you heard the music, you grabbed the groom’s grandmother and started to dance.”

“She was a good dancer.”

“And she hadn’t been asked to dance for years, Harry. You performed a miracle that day. You made her young again for three minutes and 26 seconds. You put a swing in those artificial hips that stayed there until the day I came for her. No, Harry, you were a good guy and there are many things in Life worse than me. Besides, anyone in the 98th percentile deserves a certain consideration.”

Benny finished his water. “You have a recycle tub?”

“Under the sink.”

Benny put his bottle in the tub and looked at Harry.

“Time to go?”

“Time to go.”

“Mind if I take a last look around?”

“You can, but trust me when I say, it’s better if you just keep straight ahead and follow me right on out.”

“I trust you. Let’s go.”

***

It is false to say that no one sees Death coming. At least one resident of the Pleasant Knolls Senior Living Center had seen a long time ago that Death would pay a visit sooner or later, and that’s why Harry viewed every day as a gift 72.4 per cent of his time, which as it turns out, is a rather remarkable achievement.

Posted in Five Minute Fiction for Free | Tagged , , | 10 Comments

Spring Training Redux

Posted on February 23, 2013 by
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Al and me at Spring Training last year. I need to wear this shirt more often.

As many of you know, Al Smith and I ventured to Florida for two weeks last year to take in Spring Training. Al enjoyed Florida so much that he and his wife Margo bought a house at The Villages and moved there! Needless to say, they’re getting company the first week of March as Martha and I will fly down for a visit. Naturally, we will be taking in a couple of games which at the moment include Orioles v Toronto at Sarasota, the University of Florida v the University of Indiana at Gainesville, and Astros v Phillies at Kissimmee. Mostly, we’ll be walking around wearing shorts just to enjoy walking around wearing shorts.

If I’m as smart as my smart phone, I will be able to post the next Five Minute Fiction For Free story entitled “Living Life at the 98th%tile” from Florida on the 9th. That’s even-money though, so if it doesn’t show up on the 9th, I’ll post it when I get back. I’ll also be posting interesting things from our trip via Twitter which you can follow @AustinGisriel

To whet your appetite for a little baseball, you should view the video below. It ain’t Florida, but it is Lonaconing, MD, home town of Lefty Grove, arguably baseball’s greatest left-hander. (Well, obviously he was left-handed with that nickname. On the other hand [pun intended] the Hagerstown Owls of 1948 had a right-handed catcher nicknamed “Lefty,” but that’s another story.)

Posted in Uncategorized | 6 Comments

A Love Story

Posted on February 8, 2013 by

This story is fiction, of course, but I’d like to think that I have accurately portrayed the wonderful spirit of the inspiration whom some of you know.

Gabriella forced a smile at her older son as he peered over her desk while she spoke on the phone.

“Yes, Mrs. Fredericks, I understand. It’s not snowing now though. Are you sure you don’t want to squeeze in your lesson this afternoon? . . . All right; how about next week? . . . Okay, I’ll wait to hear from you. Thanks for calling.”

Gabriella hung up the phone, determined not to cry, especially with Benjamin still peering at her with instinctive concern.

“Did another lady cancel her dance lesson, momma?”

“Yes, Benjamin. Mrs. Fredericks.”

She rose, walked to the glass front door, and stared at the industrial-gray clouds through the orange lettering that warmly proclaimed “Gabriella’s Dance Studio.”  It still wasn’t snowing, but Jennifer Fredericks was her sixth cancellation today just because it was supposed to snow. It had snowed last week, and with Valentine’s Day fast approaching, the weather was washing away one of her busiest periods of the year. Last week’s snow certainly hadn’t prevented the bills from arriving.

She looked down at Benjamin and his younger brother Caleb who stood about a foot shorter at his side. For a brief moment she saw Benjamin with orange paint on his nose when he and Caleb had “helped” her letter the door. She had never entertained any other name for her studio. She had always been Gabriella, never Gabby, even when she was as young as Caleb. She had told her mom how much she loved her name because it sounded like a ballerina’s, and ever since she was three, becoming a professional dancer had been her dream. It hadn’t come true, but she was making a living teaching what she loved and it thrilled her when her students began to move around the room without counting or looking at their feet.

A few flakes of snow began to fall here and there.

Gabriella began to wonder if this studio had been a mistake.

It wouldn’t be my first.

Always she made her decisions with tremendous faith in Life and in others. She could not fathom that Life was mostly disinterested or that people would lie to her or take advantage of her. Even now that she had experienced this, once in dramatic fashion, she still believed that such behavior on the part of others was an aberration.

Whatever her trial may have been, there had always been the dancing. Just putting on her dance shoes made her joyous and when she was in perfect sync with her partner and the music, then the moment became infinite and time irrelevant. Life even seemed to smile in her direction.

Just then Caleb came squealing out of her office and ran down the hall into the dance room. Benjamin was right behind and laughing just as hard. They quieted, however, when they heard the phone ring again. They re-entered their mother’s office as she was reaching for a tissue. The brothers had a quick consultation, and Caleb, who could not yet see over the desk, walked around to where Gabriella sat.

“Won’t anybody come dance with you, momma?” asked Benjamin.

Gabriella just shook her head “no.”

“Bendy-em and I will dance with you,” said Caleb who could not yet say his brother’s name quite the way it was supposed to be said.

The source of Gabriella’s tears changed in an instant and Caleb was startled by how quickly his mother gathered him into her arms. She grabbed Benjamin by the hand and whisked the boys down the hall and onto the dance floor. She half ran to the music system and pushed “play” with Caleb still in her arms. Soon they were laughing at themselves in the mirrors as they waltzed around the room. Benjamin laughed and clapped and when it was his turn, he stood on Gabriella’s feet as he often did when they danced. His mother’s shoes, however, never touched the floor and she marveled at how quickly this had become the best day that there had ever been at Gabriella’s Dance Studio.

Posted in Five Minute Fiction for Free | Tagged , , , , | 7 Comments