Sharing Stories
With days of pestering rain bursts frequenting the neighborhood, the crimson sky looked terribly irritable. Echoes of thunder rumbled off in the distance as the sun, which resembled a hazy ball of fire, began to solemnly set over the obscure horizon. Days like today resembled past R & R’s at the Outer Banks with sporadic storms blowing up at a moment’s notice.
Churning steam reflected softly off of the watery sidewalk, still escaping from an earlier sweltering storm. Expeditious hummingbirds were whizzing along to and fro, trying to collect nectar from a stained-glass feeder that was placed meticulously on the corner lanai. Dew was starting to condensate on the patio furniture, which was already waterlogged from several days of intermittent storms. A stained mahogany slat swing and a three-piece cast-iron bistro set consisted of the only furniture that hadn’t absorbed water from today’s torrential downpours.
A sultry, yet peaceful and relaxing evening was starting to unfold at my Uncle Grant’s home. It was common practice for the men to retire to the lanai after dinner while the women would slip off to the kitchen for a coffee recap. Uncle Grant, who was a tall, slender man with a raspy voice and a full head of reddish-black hair, started to sponge away the remaining moisture from the dank patio furniture.
Grant had a look that made you take heed and listen to his every word. He was very wise on what it seemed like every topic. He’s just one of those type of guys that everyone enjoyed being around.
I could tell by his battle scars that my uncle had experienced life to the fullest. His leathered skin and weathered face only illustrated the knowledge and wisdom that his life had endured. I always admired the ring that he wore on his left hand. The ring wasn’t his wedding band but a golden lower case “T” ring with green stones encrusting the letter, which he proudly had on display. I asked him once back when I was a child about what the “T” on his ring stood for. After a moment’s hesitation, he glanced over at Gramps and while smiling, he stated, “Well toggles of course. What did you think it stood for?”
“Have a seat Jordan. I need to talk to you.” I had never been able to figure out my uncle in the twenty something years that I’d known him, which was ok because I liked to keep people guessing as well. This was a trait that we shared. Personally, I honed in on my skills from several years working in the business: intuition. It was my job to be able to read people well– perhaps a little ingenuity mixed in. As we both sat down on the swing, Grant began to speak in a slow, meaningful voice. “I know why you are here. When I received a call from you wanting to visit, I was able to read between the lines.” I glanced over at Uncle Grant for a moment, remembering that he was my grandfather’s son, the one who was the original toggle mercenary.
“I read the article printed in the newspaper, as I suspect everyone in Willoughby Woods did.” I could tell that the tension was easing a bit in his words. I was a bit concerned when Grant said we needed to talk, but I was relieved at the same time that this was the topic he wanted to discuss. I was afraid that Uncle Grant had some bad news; thankfully that wasn’t the case.
“Before we start, have you been to see Gramps’ cousin about the matter? You know he’s not as crazy as people say that he is. I bet he could tell you a lot more about toggles than I could. After all, Gramps and his cousin used to roam the hills of Willoughby Woods searching for the little monsters.”
“No, but I will consider it. I didn’t know what kind of shape he was in mentally, or even if he would remember me, much less toggles.”
“Yeah, it’s probably worth a drive up there. I heard that he spends all day long pestering all of the nurses in the home. Retirement life, there’s nothing like it. By the way, have you ever had the privilege to read the Toggle Handbook?”
I wasn’t surprised when he asked me about the book. Somewhat disappointed in the recent memory, I accidentally snapped back, “No, thanks for reminding me of my past failures.” I quickly realized Grant meant no harm, so I said, “I briefly glanced at it, but I was tricked by some toggles and they took it away from me.” Grant looked surprised by the news. “You know your Gramps always said that the book contained powers this world was not meant to see. I just hope it don’t fall into the wrong hands.” I saw the concern on his face as I thought to myself that it most certainly had. I was positive that Shantago had possession of the book as we spoke and any powers that it mysteriously contained.
Uncle Grant had served respectfully in the military. He did two tours as a soldier-at-arms. His time in the service was something that he’d never spoken of with his family. Anytime it was ever brought up, he’d simply say, “Please, just let the past stay in the past.”
Clara told us a story once about the time Grant spend several weeks in a military hospital, and how Grant seemed changed once he came home from the war. After Grant returned, it seemed like he’d left something behind. He didn’t return the same approachable light-hearted man that he once was. Something deep now preoccupied his thoughts. She also described a lot of restless nights that he spent after the war– something that troubled him to this day.
Grant began to share a story about his time in the service and something that he witnessed in the height of battle. “I saw an indescribable evil so sinister and horrifying that I refused to talk about it for years. The only way to describe what I saw was that it was some sort of a toggle, veloci-stroggle or mega stroggle–perhaps the one gramps spoke about in his stories. This beast was very tall and muscular. He started to beat on the whole brigade and nothing seemed to stop him. Those eyes… I barely escaped with my life.” Grant stated that the only reason that he survived that day was because the monster thought he was already dead and left him lying there all bruised and broken.
Clara interrupted the discussion to bring us some freshly squeezed lemonade. “Hey boys, I brought you something to drink.” She handed Grant his glass first. “Thank you Clara. How did you know I could use something cold to quench my thirst? We’ve been in such a deep, in-depth conversation that I’ve become rather parched.” I’d noticed in the past that Grant always tried to impress Clara whenever company was around. I figured trying to impress a woman was a man thing, since in the past I’d caught myself doing the same with Piper.
Pondering for a moment on the intense conversation, Grant finished off the last of his lemonade and began to clack softly the remaining ice in his cup. “Now where was I? Oh yeah, I was lying there in the trenches covered up with debris when help finally arrived. You know that I was probably the only one who survived that horrific day.”
Suddenly Grant had a thought that he shared with me. “Perhaps that’s why the evil one is going after you instead of me? He must think that I did indeed die that day while lying there in the trenches. Why not? Everyone else that day met their maker. Why would I be any different?” Grant pondered on that thought for a moment while admitting, “I always wondered about that.” A stone-cold feeling chattered my bones as I sarcastically sounded off, “Yeah well, lucky me.” We both laughed it off, but deep down inside we knew the severity of the conversation.
As it was now getting rather late, a stern warning flashed across Grant’s face. I could see the sincerity in his eyes as he began to tell me, “Jordan, do me a favor. Quit trying to find that monster. I’ve run this thought through my mind a thousand times and you will just go to your grave too early. That will be the result. There are powers there that no one can explain. Even your gramps didn’t fully understand what he was dealing with. You are entering uncharted waters my friend, and I hate to see you do it. Frankly, I’m surprised that you are still alive right now. Trust me when I tell you this: he is keeping you alive for a reason. I don’t know if he’s just toying with you or what he has in mind, but Jordan, I think you should get out of Willoughby Woods while there’s still time.”
I appreciated the fact that Grant was watching out after me, and a lot of what he said was true, and I could relate to it. At the same time, I’d made a promise to Piper, and it wa
s one that I intended to keep. If I had to exterminate every toggle in Willoughby Woods to do it, then so be it.
As I was getting into my Jeep, Grant made one last plea. “Jordan, remember what I’ve told you. It’s not worth losing your life over this silly nonsense. I know your gramps fully believed in toggles, and I have witnessed their destruction first hand, so you can understand my warning. Walk away Jordan. Just walk away from the obsession that is consuming you. It will only destroy your life and no good can come from it.”
“I appreciate everything that you’ve told me tonight Uncle Grant. I will take all of it into consideration. As for now, I think I will go home and ponder on my options. You’ve been a big help, and I thank you.” That was enough for Uncle Grant to smile and bid me farewell, all the while I was really thinking how much I wanted to destroy every toggle that I met. The hunt for redemption was on. I owed it to Piper to continue my quest and rid the world of “The Great One” and all of his minions. I naturally didn’t tell any of this to Uncle Grant; instead I just smiled and waved goodbye as I drove away. If Grant only knew my true intentions, he would be the one that would leave Willoughby Woods for good. Yes, he should have packed up all of his belongings and left this dreadful town while he had a chance to.
Hellion’s Lair
“The three Ds: dark, damp, and dreary. I wouldn’t have it any other way–home sweet home. Well, temporarily until my work is finished. I like to have a place that I can dim the lights with a faint chill in the air. The rats lurking around are my servants. I invite them to my throne.”
Holding a picture in his hand, Shantago’s eyes began to water. “My love, I will avenge your death.” He sighed sorrowfully as he took another look at the photo. “Robin, my true love, I remember a simpler time when things weren’t so dark and gloomy. Why did you have to leave me so soon?” Shantago focused intently on the picture a few more seconds before the gleam went from his eyes and a crimson hatred returned.
Some of Shantago’s militia and servants began to gather around his throne for their daily assembly. Shantago always took these meetings very serious. The things that were discussed in these gatherings affected the whole kingdom.
General Krylon, the leader of Shantago’s army, began to make his way to the front of the crowd. Krylon’s eyes were like a fervent fire, and being large in stature, he towered well above any other. Krylon is known throughout the land for his unorthodox victories on the battlefield.
“General Krylon, have you found the location of the rogue toggle yet?”
“Not yet my lord, but I assure you that when I’m done with him, he will wish that he’d never been born.”
“Very well then. I demand his imprisonment.”
“If it’s all the same to you sir, I hadn’t planned on letting him live.”
“Even better.”
“Negassa, come here and bring me the book. Have the mystic toggle elders figured out how to open it yet?”
“Yes my lord. They made a key that fits the lock. I will have the mystic toggles bring it to you now. They were trying to decipher some of the ancient prophecies for you.”
“Good. Once I retrieve the secrets from the Toggle Handbook of Knowledge and Wisdom, I will have the powers I need to finally defeat the evil Son of Nick. Send them to me now.”
“Trentor, I need you to head up a small army of gumshoe lookouts to patrol and observe the whereabouts of my enemy. I want them on him 24/7. Can you handle this?”
“Yes my lord. Anything you wish.”
“Trentor, I know how much you like to use Fuzzbucket for this kind of mission, but if you do, tell him to be more incognito. Perhaps he can wear a trench coat and a disguise of some sorts. I don’t know how he can hide that trunk of a nose he has, which concerns me. Make sure you tell him not to get caught this time.”
“Yes my lord. Anything you wish.”
“Trentor, I have one last request.”
“Yes my lord?”
“Quit saying yes my lord. If I told you to jump off the Willoughby Bridge, would you?” Trentor thought about it for a moment, like he was really considering it.
“Never mind. Go now and do my bidding.” Trentor started to say, yes my lord, but he thought better of it and excused himself while quietly exiting the scene.
Pondering out loud, Shantago expounded, “Now that I have a strategy in place, I plan on doing a little sleuthing myself. Let’s see.” Thinking a moment about the situation, Shantago proceeded with his plan. “Perhaps that’s exactly what I need to do.” Just then Shantago was clumsily interrupted by Negassa. Negassa, bowing his head and kneeling on one knee, proclaimed with accomplishment, “Sir, I checked on the prisoners and they are all miserable. One little girl won’t leave the spiders in the dungeon alone. She caught a few and so I let them free and then stomped on them. Also, I brought you the book. It’s the Toggle Handbook of Knowledge and Wisdom, just like what you wanted. Did I do well?”
“Negassa, you are just like your dead father: weak. I don’t know why I put up with you. Now go and bring me the mystic toggle elders like I asked you to do; I need them to give a report of what they found.” Negassa looked somewhat disappointed as he scurried back down the hall.
“Finally, I have the powers of the ancient toggles all within my grasps. With this new insight I cannot be stopped.” As he turned the key to open the book, music started to play. “My plan has commenced. The end is drawing near.” Shantago eagerly began to consume every ounce of knowledge written in the Toggle Handbook. With every page that was turned, Shantago’s powers increased. Shantago absorbed each syllable and sentence, which flowed like wine, right off the pages and into his very soul.
A Great Expectation
It had been a long while without the thought of toggles crossing my mind. I honestly thought that I was getting back to normal. Man, it’d been a long road too. My mind seemed clearer than ever and I felt good about myself again. That all changed while on my way home when I saw, well I thought I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a toggle. I knew it had to be one, probably a spy. Yes, standing on the corner of Montana Avenue was a big ole ugly toggle. He was red and yellow with patches of fur in places. He had a trunk for a nose and ears like an elephant. His eyes were a scorching red and his teeth were a golden brown like old wood.
I watched him fold up the newspaper that he was reading and place it under his arm. I noticed that he was checking out one of the missing children posters, which was of a little blonde girl with big blue eyes that someone had posted at the bus stop. In the last few months alone, Willoughby Woods had lay victim to several children missing. For the most part the police suggested we are all just runaways, but in my opinion something else was going on. It seemed like every day another Have you Seen Me poster was taped up to the bus stop glass. I watched him for a moment while he sat there waiting for a ride, I would assume. Why else would you be sitting there at the bus stop?
After all that had recently happened, I still hadn’t come to terms with toggles living among us. It seemed like I was finding more proof every day. What could I do about it? The answer was nothing. There was no one else around and he wasn’t hurting anyone, so I just drove on by him and headed for home.
I started fumbling for my apartment door key as I was walking down the hallway. I was thinking to myself that I needed to cut back on some of the keys that were on my keychain; I simply had too many. Once I arrived at the threshold, I was shocked at a startling new discovery. My apartment’s door was standing open. I was sure, one hundred percent confident, that I’d locked the door on my way out. Someone or something had been inside, but how? No one had a key but me. I’d changed the locks several weeks ago after Audrey had left so abruptly. I quickly picked up a large umbrella, which was lying by the entrance, and creaked open the rest of the door.
While standing in the doorway, I glanced all around the empty apartment, looking for any trespassers. I stared icily at a painting Audrey had left on the wall of Mr. Dimples. Even Mr. Dimp
les had a frightened look on his face as I walked by. I checked my room and the bathroom: nothing. Everything was intact and in place. As I stood there at a loss for words, I suddenly saw something moving under one of the bathroom towels. I positioned my umbrella as I slowly approached the mysterious, jumpy figure. In a quick second I flipped off the towel and to my surprise a small black bird burst out. He escaped through the bathroom window, but before he did, he paused for a moment to tell me something. As if to say, “I’ve got my eye on you,” he let out a victorious “ca-caw” as he quickly exited the scene.
I thought to myself, while still dumbfounded, Whoever broke into my apartment must be the neatest crook that ever existed; not even a magazine is out of place. After poking my head outside for a moment to get a good look around, I shut the bathroom window and locked it. Well, I can’t blame the little bird. I know he didn’t break into the apartment, at least not alone. Whoever did this must have been startled and rushed out the bathroom window when he heard me fumbling for my keys. I pondered on that for a moment as I made my way back into the living room.
As I sat down on the sofa, I noticed a small playing card lying on the table. At first I didn’t want to touch it. I had that inkling, that feeling– something about the card was sinister.
Curiosity finally gave way so I picked the card up. I examined every inch of it. Of course they left a calling card. The front side had a picture of a toggle dressed up in a joker’s outfit, juggling three oogle ogles while standing on a unicycle. How did I know they were oogle ogles? Well let’s just say that I clashed with my share of them while hanging out at Gramps cabin.
Shantago's Revenge Page 2
