by Steve Lang
“Grab a pile of bombs, everybody. We’re heading to the roof to take down some warbots.” Gaz said.
“Won’t those orbs blow us up as well?” George asked.
“We’ve got a ship, George. You didn’t think we just flew around with our wings did you?” Gaz pressed a button and the elevator doors opened.
They rode to another floor that housed a large room where in the center sat a hovering rectangular craft. George could see heavy guns hanging off the wings.
“We load the bombs into those cannons, and shoot into the center of those bastards, and wipe them out. I took precautions long ago when I saw the politics heading in the direction of war and had another castle built far north of here in the current safe zone.”
Loud explosions could be heard from elsewhere in the castle. Gaz raced toward the ship and a ramp lowered. “Get in!” He yelled.
Inside was a hopper that he instructed everyone to place their bombs in, with care, and he took the pilot’s chair. Gaz pressed a few buttons on the console as everyone took a seat, and Loina’s seat was beside her husband in the right chair. The ceiling slid back, and in the blink of an eye they were airborne, high above the castle. Gaz pressed the fire button on his control stick, and a round orb launched into the hole they exited from. He zipped out of the way before a massive mushroom cloud erupted from his once majestic castle. The warbots were taken by surprise and half the courtyard was littered with the broken, smoking pieces of shattered death machines. Gaz fired once more into the remaining crowd, but not before one of the bots could fire a laser straight into Gaz’s ship.
“He hit my ship!” Gaz screamed. His aim was true, and the rest of the attacking warbots went up in a cloud of nuclear debris.
“Gaz…” Loina whispered, and slumped forward.
“Mommy!” Lamuni screamed.
He looked over to see that his wife had been struck in the abdomen, and was bleeding through her white toga.
“Loina! George, get my wife to the Critically Wounded table in back.”
George said nothing and grabbed Loina around the waste, her blood draining onto his shirt as he lifted her limp, lithe body, carrying her to a padded table that extended from the wall. After laying her down a series of little finger-like instruments began prodding and poking her, and then one of them entered her wound. It shone a white light that brightened the back of the dark ship as the mechanical wonders repaired the hole in her side. A voice came from a speaker in the wall beside the medical instruments. The children sat stone still, in shock from seeing their mother get shot.
“She’ll be fine with two day’s rest. No moving or lifting heavy objects. Have her take two of these for pain when needed. The bleeding has stopped, and her wound is healed, but the nerves will still need to repair themselves.” A glass vial of little white pills dropped into a dispenser slot.
When George walked back to the front of the ship Gaz motioned for him to have a seat next to him. After cleaning out the blood from Loina, he took a seat next to his new friend.
“Thank you for helping my wife, I’m sure she owes you her life. Once we land at our new home I’ll return you to your realm.”
“You’re welcome, Gaz. This has been like a funky dream and I wouldn’t trade the short time I’ve had here for anything. We are well met, Sir.” George smiled.
“I agree, George from Earth.” Gaz nodded.
“Are they going to follow you, the warbots, I mean?” George asked.
“Perhaps, probably…I don’t know, but we’ll deal with them if they do. I have enough of their bombs to keep fighting until my children are old and gray.”
The land they flew over was beautiful to George, and far from any city or town. Waterfalls cascaded through winding rivers, cutting through the dense forest, feeding nature, and carrying the song of life to faraway places. George did not want to leave. In the distance he saw a spire rising high into the sky, and a beam of flight scanned their vehicle.
“Security system. If a warbot gets so much as ten miles from my home here in the outer reaches my defense system will blast them to dust.” Gaz grinned.
This castle was the color of ivory, and was constructed of a material George had never seen. One moment it appeared translucent, and in another it looked like solid matter .
“The translucence is by design, so that we can choose which sections of the castle to open up to sunlight, but the walls are nine feet thick, lined with steel, and can withstand a direct hit from one of the warbots best shots.”
Gaz landed the craft, and a ramp descended as a group of robots exited the new castle, gently carried Loina inside, her children following close behind.
“Bye, George.” Wavri waved.
“Goodbye, it was nice to meet you.” George smiled.
Gaz produced a small clicker device from his pocket and when he tapped it, the air around them began to shimmer, and George could smell the bad air coming from his planet.
“I never realized how polluted our air is.” George said.
“You get used to it, but I always smell like fish when I come from there.” Gaz replied.
“Thank you for your help, Gaz. What can I do to repay you?”
“I’ve never met an earth man like you before, and your friendship is payment enough. You also helped my wife when she was shot, so you’ve made a friend of hers for life.”
“Can I come back sometime?”
“When we have peace in our world, you may return. I had no idea we would be attacked while you were there. This war is so unreal.” Gaz lowered his head. “I will check in on you from time to time though.”
Gaz embraced George without warning, a sentiment he returned with affection. George closed his eyes, and when he opened them, Gaz was gone and he was alone in the forest. A curious squirrel had watched the entire episode from a tree, and would have quite a story to tell his mate that night. George could hear his friends calling him far above through the woods, and he felt a renewed sense of Thanksgiving. This year would be all the more special. Thanks to the Given.
mirror world
Tom Cook purchases a dream house for he and his wife, but when tragedy strikes will the house allow them to stay together?
Tom Cook became overwhelmed with excitement as he hung up the phone with his realtor Debra Duncan. He could not wait to tell his wife Sandra that they were now the proud owners of their very own home, just outside Charleston, SC. The two had wanted a larger place than their one bedroom apartment and what Tom found was a beautiful old farmhouse painted white, with blue wooden shutters at the end of a long lane of magnolias. All he knew about the house was that the original owner had built it in eighteen sixty-five and it had been a cotton plantation. The price was fifty thousand dollars out of their price range, but he had fallen in love with it and was willing to bite the bullet. Since Sandra was away on business the decision to purchase the home had rested on his shoulders. Against all reason Tom bought the fifty-acre fixer-upper, and took on the extra debt. Sure, Sandra would probably experience some sticker shock, he thought, but when she got settled in she would realize that this was the right decision, and a great place to start their family. His certainty was rock solid, until she answered the phone in San Francisco.
“Hi sweetie! How’d the house buying adventure go? You got us a great piece of property in a neighborhood close to town, right?” Sandra chimed.
He was careful not to pause too long.
“Well, sort of.” He was nowhere close to nonchalant. “I’ll tell you what. You’re definitely going to be surprised on Sunday when I pick you up from the airport! It went really, really well. How’s San Francisco?” He replied.
There was a pause on her end, and his stomach tightened with dread.
“San Francisco’s great. Tom, please tell me you bought in a nice neighborhood. We’re not in a slum, right?” She sounded worried.
“No honey, we’re not in a slum; in fact I think you’re going to love the place. There’s plenty of room to
raise a family,” he said.
“Whew! OK, good. I trust you, and I can’t wait to get home so we can have a nice glass of wine together.”
He had taken the week off from work, and had scheduled movers to arrive early Friday morning, which would give him just enough time to put their bedroom and living room together before Sandra arrived. Judging from the size of the house and what little they had to bring from their apartment he felt like the house might swallow them whole, but that was a thought he would put a pin in for now.
“I’ll see you Sunday morning, and then we’ll celebrate.” Tom smiled.
“Sounds good, I love you,” said Sandra.
“I love you, too. Have an awesome rest of the week out there!” He kissed the phone and hung up.
The next morning Tom signed all of the remaining documents, and his life away, right before the real estate agent gave him his keys to the house.
“I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful life in that house, Tom. It’s got so much, history!” Debra chirped. History? He thought with curiosity, but said nothing.
After leaving Debra, Tom decided to stay the night in their new house, but first he had to go get a mattress and their German Sheppard, Barney. He was an excellent watchdog and family friend.
“It’s going to grow on you,” he muttered to himself.
He and Barney arrived at the new place at around noon and almost as soon as Tom walked through the door his cell phone began to ring from an unknown number.
“This is Tom,” he answered.
“Hello, Tom! My name is Jeanette Parker, and I know you don’t know me, but I’m a paranormal investigator and I think I can help you with your new house.”
“I appreciate the call, but I think I’m fine.” Tom said.
“There are some things you don’t know.” Jeanette said.
“Alright, I appreciate your help, really, but I don’t need a paranormal investigator. Have a great day, and thanks again for the call.” Tom hung up before she could say anything else and promptly forgot their conversation.
Tom and Barney entered the empty house and began to explore each old room. Old floorboards creaked in places, and he noted that a new floor would need to be installed. As he walked he imagined what would go where. Almost every room was bare with the exception of a larger room toward the back of his new home. Custom mahogany bookcases lined the room from floor to ceiling in what could only have been a library. The only wall without a case was to the left of entry and a large ornate mirror hung on it, which was yellowed with age. Tom admired the mirror with a smile, and as he stood in front of it he could see the beautifully crafted bookshelves behind him.
“Now, I finally have a place to store all of my books. Well, the one box of books I own, that is.” He laughed to Barney.
Tom suddenly felt a cold streak of fear slide up his spine. Another laugh had echoed his. Had he imagined it? Slowly, he turned and saw a smiling man in a charcoal grey Hugo Boss dress suit. This man was wearing a fedora hat, the type worn by men in the nineteen forties and a kind expression on his face. The nameless man took a bow, straightened, and vanished just before rounding the hallway corner. Tom felt his breath return, and sat down with his back against the wall. Instead of fear he felt a kind of wild exhilaration from his experience. Had he made contact with someone from the other side? If so, it had not been scary or negative like the movie Poltergeist. This was more like seeing the friendly old guys from Cocoon. Then he thought of Sandra, who might not be so engaged with his newly found contact with the spirit world. If she knew about what he had seen she would not spend one night in this house. He reached for the cell phone and redialed the last number who called him, Jeanette Parker.
“Hi Jeanette, I wanted to apologize for my rudeness earlier. It turns out that we may need to meet after all,” he said. Paul felt a sheepish embarrassment, and knew his face was red.
“It’s OK Tom; this is not the first time this has happened. You live in a special house, and if you treat this experience with respect I think you and the others will have a great time living there together.” Jeanette said.
“Others?”
“You want me to come over and explain?” Jeanette asked.
“Yes, like ten minutes ago. Please do and maybe we can have dinner together and talk. I’ve already signed my life away for the house, and my wife is going to flip out when she finds out about this, and not in a good way either.”
“I’ll be over at seven. You bring wine, and I’ll bring dinner.” Jeanette said.
Jeanette brought a pizza, and then she and Tom proceeded to have one of the strangest conversations he would ever have with another human.
“Tom, what were you told about the house before you bought?” Jeanette asked.
“Nothing other than that it was a plantation during the eighteen hundreds. Isn’t there some kind of a disclosure clause or something that implies I should be notified if my house may be haunted? It should have been mentioned, right?” Tom was puzzled.
“Technically, unless a murder or something like that happens within three years of a sale, no. You could take them to court to get your money back, but I honestly don’t think that’s going to be necessary. Proving your house is haunted in a court of law will be difficult anyway.”
Tim shook his head slowly from side to side.
“Your house is an interdimensional portal, or a gateway between worlds. It was purposely built on the thirty-third parallel by a confederate fraternity who had a fascination with the afterlife and supernatural influence on the living world,” she explained.
“This is a joke, right? Who were they, Masons?”
“I’m not sure. But the entities passing through your house respond to the energy you give off. Positivity is reciprocated, as is anger. Have you seen one, yet?” She asked.
“An old guy in a hat. I saw him in the library when I was checking out the house. One minute I was alone, and the next—poof—there he was. The guy just smiled at me, bowed and then disappeared.” Tom answered.
She went on about what a great sign it was that the spirits we welcoming him in, but all Tom could think about was how much Sandra was going to freak out when she was brushing her teeth and something from the beyond popped out of their shower. The two talked for several hours and he got a better understanding of what to expect. Jeanette explained that there had been many families who had found out about the house, met some of the transient spirits, and sold right away. Tom did not want to lose the equity he had in his house only a day after closing on it, so he decided that he would confront Sandra with the truth on their way home Sunday. If he told her their house was haunted while she was in San Francisco she might never return.
That night as Tom slept soundly, he began to see a white light beyond his closed lids, and when he opened them Sandra was standing beside the bed. Her face soft, serene, and her smile was welcoming. She was home, but how?
“Hi Tom. I’ve missed you,” she said.
“Uhhh, wha,… hi, yeah, me too. How’d you get home so fast?
“Come here.” Sandra whispered.
She grabbed his hand and he rose from bed as Little Wing, by Jimmy Hendrix began to play somewhere in the house.
Sandra wanted to dance, so he complied and she held him closer than she ever had. There was something indefinable about her passion. Sandra was usually so reserved, but as they began to sway her arms held him as if she would never see him again. He welcomed her embrace and the two were joined as one while music filled his head. He felt himself leave the floor as they swirled together, their souls entwined for a moment in time that neither would forget.
“I don’t have much time,” she whispered.
“What do you mean…”
“Shhhh, no talking,” she said.
Once the music ended Sandra took his hand in hers and led him to the library.
“I don’t remember what happened in San Francisco, but I do know that I won’t be able to stay with you. Look.” She pointed
toward the mirror.
The mirror now resembled a painting and looked amazingly realistic. It was his house and there were people moving about performing various tasks on the now working farm. Through her vision he saw sweeping hills and valleys, untouched rivers where waters were sweet and pure. Tom wanted to be there.
“You can’t some with me now, but from time to time, if you think about me I’ll stop in and we can dance together.” Sandra squeezed his hand.
“But, why can’t I come?” Tom was puzzled, confused. Was this a dream?
“It’s not time. Tom, I want you to love again, have a long life, and raise your family in our house. You will always be welcome. When your time comes I’ll be here and we can move on together.” She kissed him on the cheek and turned to go.
After Tom woke groggily from his slumber he remembered Sandra gliding through the mirror into a field of wild flowers. She walked slowly toward their mirror world house, and disappeared.
Later that day, Tom received a call from a police detective in San Francisco informing him that his wife had been killed when the structural supports of a bridge she had been on collapsed. Sandra had plummeted into the bay and drowned before rescue workers could get to her. The detective gave his condolences and hung up. The dream came back to him and he sat down hard dropping the phone.
“It’s OK, Tom. You’re in shock now, but crossing over is part of life. We all do it. You just have an opportunity to commune with us before your time to move on comes. A word of caution though. Don’t forget you’re alive. This place can…absorb you, if you allow it,” came an unseen voice.
Tom turned and the old man in the charcoal grey suit, and fedora was sitting about half way up the stairs, still smiling kindly. Although Tom did see Sandra frequently, and the two shared many moonlight dances, he followed her wishes and did love again, married, and raised two children in their home. One night, when the years had passed, his kids were all grown, and it was time, Sandra escorted him through the mirror and their adventure continued.
the legend of
