Twelve Tales Of The Supernatural

by Mario V. Farina

space capsules that automatically circumnavigate the Earth. These computers control, and have controlled the evolution of science on this planet. While Marconi may have thought he had invented radio; Morse the telegraph; Bell the telephone, and Edison the electric light, the actual knowledge for these inventions had been fed to those persons at predefined times. The fact is that, with one exception, smoking, humans never invented anything. Even the idea of the wheel was fed to Mada's and Eve's descendents by a Parasaurolophus.

  It is understood that, with the arrival of the new settlers, earthly creatures, that are deemed superfluous, will be extinguished. All other life, whatever its form, including humans, will be destroyed also. It is planned that an experiment will be conducted to determine if anything at all should exist, including dinosaurs and, even their computers.

  All of the foregoing, inscribed on the Attessor Stone, is to be burned onto a DVD-ROM beginning in August 2023, and the disk is to be widely distributed. The date and time of the release of the document that you are now reading, is to be determined. If you are reading this document, that time has arrived!

  It is possible you might think this entire article is a hoax. The fact that the word, Attesor, is Rosetta spelled backwards may lend some credence to this notion. But it is also possible that, in order to help keep panic to a minimum, this is what the computers want you to believe.

  The Mistrial

  Cora Fielding, Forewoman of the jury, took a vote as soon as the five men and seven women had been seated. She announced the result had been eleven votes for innocent and one for guilty. Ms. Fielding, about 35, overweight, blond with streaks of gray asked, "Would the person who voted guilty care to identify himself or herself?" Janet Carter raised her hand. Puzzled, Ms. Fielding stared at her. "You don't look familiar," she said. "Are you one of the jurors? What is your name?"

  "I'm registered with you as Mary Carter," responded the juror. "My real name is Janet Carter." Mystified, the other members of the jury remained silent.

  "This is bizarre," commented Ms. Fielding. "What did you do, switch places with Mary Carter?"

  "No," responded, Janet. "I'm the same person that entered the room. I took on a different appearance and name while we were voting."

  "Nonsense," retorted the forewoman angrily. "What's going on here? As I recall, the other person was young with dark hair. You're, at least, thirty years older! How did you get in here? Where is the other person?"

  "I know this will cause a mistrial," said Janet. "I have a special reason to being here. The other person was me as a young woman. My present appearance is as I was when I died! We're here to judge the innocence or guilt of Jerome Carter. He's accused of killing his wife, Janet Carter. Most people think this trial is a farce since there was no physical evidence linking him to the crime. I'm here because I know he's guilty! I am the person he killed!"

  The silence in the room continued but its character changed from mysticism to shock. There was not so much as a murmur in the room. After several seconds, Ms. Fielding found her voice. "Do I understand that you are claiming to be the murdered person?"

  "Exactly, declared Janet!"

  "How can we believe that? What can you show? What is your objective in being here?" gasped Ms. Fielding.

  "I do have a purpose," responded, Mary. "Whether you believe what I'm saying or not, does not matter. I want this jury to file back into the courtroom and have Jerome see me, a year after he shot me. We need to see his reaction."

  "I can't agree to that," Ms. Fielding shouted. "As forewoman of this jury, it's my duty to report this to the judge at once. This is for him to handle." She picked up the phone. "Open the door," she commanded. "We're coming back. Now!"

  She led ten jurors to the door. Janet followed slowly several steps behind.

  There were still several persons in the courtroom. The judge was standing behind the bench speaking to his adjutant. Jerome Carter, the defendant, middle aged and balding, was seated absorbed in a discussion with his lawyer. The prosecutor was having an animated conversation with several reporters.

  A great deal of confusion ensued as eleven members of the jury seated themselves. "What is the meaning of this?" demanded Judge Allen. "Your honor," began Ms. Fielding but didn't get any further. Janet was walking through the door when Jerome Carter caught sight of her. He hesitated for a moment, then rose shakily.

  Janet pointed her finger at him. "I've come back, darling," she shouted. With color draining from his face, Jerome sank back into his chair.

  "Yes, it's me, lover," Janet continued. "Do you have anything to say to your adoring wife? Speak! Though I'm already dead, I'm dying to hear your voice!"

  "Jan, Jan, I'm sorry!" shrieked Jerome. "I did it in a moment of madness. I'm sorry!

  You're dead! Go back. Go back to wherever you've come from." He clapped both hands to his eyes and began to sob.

  "I'll go now, beloved," responded Janet. "But I won't be far. Stray not one step from the path you need to walk!"

  She vanished. The room was quiet except for the tumultuous sounds of Jerome's continuing sobs.

  Thou Art A Witch

  We live in a world of witches. This is more of a problem in other lands than it is in the United States because we don't use archaic language here any more. But we should know more about witches anyway. Here are the facts:

  There are many witches in our country. They look like ordinary people, both men and women. There are bad witches and good witches. The bad witches can cast spells; good witches cannot do this but they can remove them where they exist.

  If you say to a person, "Thou art a witch!" there may be a reaction. If he or she is not a witch, the individual may be offended, but nothing worse is likely to happen. However, if that person is a bad witch, he or she may cast a spell upon you. The spell will be such that it may be removed only by a good witch!

  I can't emphasize how important that last paragraph is!

  In my youth I was at a diner one time after I had been reading about witches. There was a lovely blond woman serving me and I thought I'd try a new line. I said, "Thou art a witch!" The plan was that if she complained, I'd say I had yearned to be placed under her spell. As it turned out, the woman was a bad witch! She became very angry and, indeed, placed me under her spell. She turned me into a coffee cup! The picture at the front of this book shows what I looked like at that time.

  Yes, that is a picture of me at the time. I was actually a coffee cup!

  I had not expected this outcome and spent several days in this condition. But I was optimistic. Every time I'd be placed on a table and someone sat there to eat, I'd say, "Thou art a witch!" My hope was that a good witch would hear this and remove the spell. Most of the time the result was, simply, shock. After all, who had ever heard of a talking coffee cup?

  After a week of this unpleasant existence, a pretty woman came to have breakfast. She was alone. I said, "Thou art a witch!" I was hoping she was a good witch so that she could remove the spell.

  "Yes," she responded. "I am a good witch." I was overjoyed and begged, "Would you please make me human again?" She was willing but in no hurry. She wanted to know more about me. We had a pleasant chat, which was interrupted only when the server, a kindly-looking older woman, came to take the her order. I had found out a lot of good things about the young woman, but all she knew about me, up to that point, was that I was a coffee cup.

  We continued our conversation, and I got the feeling that when I was a human again, we could take our relationship up to the next step. Eggs and bacon were delivered to her and she enjoyed this but I had nothing but coffee.

  After the good witch had eaten, she changed me back to a human. At that time, I found myself sitting opposite her. We continued to chat. At the end, we exchanged telephone numbers and she left. The server came back and stared at me. "I didn't see you come in," she said. "How could she have?" I thought. I had been there all the while as a coffee cup!

  I found this a little amusing and was chort
ling a little too loudly.

  "What's so funny?" she asked.

  I was laughing by this time, and I said through my tears of laughter, "I was thinking about the time I said something I shouldn't have and got turned into a coffee cup!"

  "What on earth did you say?" the server asked.

  "Thou art a witch!" I replied.

  The woman's countenance took on a severe appearance "That was nasty," she growled as she turned me back to a coffee cup!

  A Pleasant Journey

  I'm older than most persons but I'm still employed full-time with a State agency. At the end of their work shift, most co-workers disappear like snowflakes on a hot summer day. I linger at my workplace for several minutes because I don't like scurrying to the parking garage, then waiting in line as the cars creep down the ramp out to the street. I prefer to leave when the way is clear. Even then, I'll take a last glance at my work station to make sure the computer has been shut down and papers are put neatly away.

  Something happened today that I'd like to tell you about. When four o'clock came, I walked to the door leading out to the street where I work and found that the elevator was ready for use. I work on the first floor