FriendlyHorrorandOtherWeirdTales Read online

  But

  mixed with the Decay

  of festering wounds and forgotten corpses,

  it is a hard task

  to release from memory

  no matter the assistance of floral tincture.

  These fungal scenes

  are forever imprinted

  upon our neural receptive canvas,

  even if the Mind’s Eye

  disposes of the picture.

  When our short lives end,

  the soul seeping out

  upon its final journey

  to regions Unknown,

  our cells begin to flatten

  toward a dusty earthly return.

  Our mortal remains are

  refrigerated for a time

  dampening the dusty process.

  Our viewing visitors may

  wrinkle their nose upon

  the unwelcome

  noisome

  of pungent burnt metal,

  halted decomposition

  and gaseous seepage,

  which clings tightly

  as an armored glove

  to their minds and clothes,

  ever reminding them

  of the lingering

  Odor of death.

  Pockets

  —J. Burke

  The author

  with the world in his pockets

  walked across the stage.

  He wore

  the same shade of black

  as his hair —pants, t-shirt, coat, even down to his socks.

  His voice was soft,

  revealing

  the Queen’s English and

  not that of the American backwoods

  he had carved out

  his own patch of ground in —complete with

  flower beds and beehives and a lamp-post

  that had wandered out of the snowy lands of Story.

  The pockets in his dark coat bulged.

  One rustled.

  That would be the monkeys.

  Busily typing Hamlet’s final soliloquy.

  A flash-bulb went off

  in the depths

  of the upper pocket —or was it the Doctor’s screwdriver?

  After all,

  the author did have

  the scarf

  —all beiges, reds, and stripey purples—

  wound round,

  ten whole feet in all,

  kept for Saturday afternoons.

  A small scream

  —or was it a laugh—

  came out of another,

  an inside pocket.

  That would be Cassandra,

  surrounded by the outline

  of lost men and lost cities,

  outlines

  the color of dusted flour.

  Just like Mary Poppins’ black case,

  the author’s pockets

  were

  bigger on the inside.

  That was obvious.

  Inside,

  he kept

  maps with no edges,

  keys for any lock,

  seemingly plain

  rings of gold

  –some with and some without

  fiery letters,

  and pocket watches

  that were really pocket watches

  and not something

  on the border of memory,

  gifted from uncle Bob from Gallifrey.

  I’m sure there was even

  an umbrella in there,

  one used for flying and not

  rainy mornings.

  There was even the odd cough drop.

  But,

  not a single

  packet of tissues.

  The author

  had given those

  to a Cheshire Cat

  last week.

  A Guide to Acclimating New Felines to their New Home —Best done with Kittens under the age of 10 months, Can be Adapted with Ease**

  **Can be adapted for older cats, but be aware, after 10 months, they can transmute. Older cats should, unfortunately, be implanted with a locator chip which would help them beam their way home, Scotty. More about that in chapters 12 through 16.

  Step 3: Preliminary Introductions

  Now that you’ve been chosen by your new feline companion and since you’ve already set up what most rescue groups like to call the “Isolation” room, you’re ready to introduce new kitty to the home. This first stage is a process and can take anywhere from several hours to several days. You know what they say about being forewarned. You’re not throwing your current companions into the mix with the newcomer. That would result in heartache, thoroughly terrified kitties, and possible missing or damaged pieces. You’re introducing the newcomer to her new home—that’s all.

  Don’t go rogue and decide you can throw them in together. I did that with my Bunny—a wondrous Chartreuse —when I brought home a stray calico female. Bunny was about 10 months old and she had been adopted only 2 months prior. This was more than 25 years ago—before “Isolation” rooms and Introduction periods. I was 14. My mother and I walked in with the new kitten and plunked her down on the kitchen floor while my brother brought in Bunny. We did not have happy cats. No missing parts, but decidedly peeved felines. I was lucky that, at the time, I was relatively unaware of the Others, otherwise I would’ve been as equally upset by the situation. It took several weeks for the two to become adjusted, and it didn’t help matters that barely a week later, we adopted the calico’s sister as well; both had been found at varying points on my paper route. Litter-mates, they had been abandoned by a girl who was a freshman with me at the local high school. My friends had to pull me off her in the cafeteria after she told me that she had hoped by leaving the kittens they’d “just die.”

  Whenever bringing adoptees home, whether you’ve adopted them or they’ve adopted you, there are always vestiges of the adoptee’s time past— past “owners,” past homes, past sentiments, et cetera and so forth. Like humans, kitties come with baggage. It’s imperative that the Introductions go as close to plan as possible in order to give kitty a clean start and to cleanse them of said baggage. No wonder newcomers attract the Others. But, there are ways to control that and keep any disruptions to a minimum. We’ll get to that later on. Back to our preliminaries.

  So, kitty has her new home selected and you’ve made it to the front door, kitty in carrier. Hopefully, you’ve read through this and decided to place a cozy blanket inside the carrier for the newcomer. Regardless of outside temperatures, kitty likes cozy and the blanket will help her make the transition. You don’t have to buy the blanket or bed or whatever disgusting thing the creature’s been sleeping on from the shelter. It could have bedbugs and it’s probably been used as a toilet at some point in its decidedly long history. But, having a blanket with you at the shelter and already inside the carrier is a very smart idea.

  Bring her inside and set down the carrier like it’s nothing more than an attaché case. Try to put the carrier at a focal point in your home, like the hallway. Make sure it’s in hearing distance and near the kitchen. Ignore it. Walk away. Go into the kitchen.

  The Others will investigate.

  Pay Them no mind—unless you hear screaming, spitting, or a seething fit any kind. If you do, just make a loud noise. Farting isn’t enough, chanting isn’t appropriate at this stage, and do NOT scream. Drop some pots and pans on the floor. The noise should startle them away from the newcomer.

  Go about your business. Prepare an excellent meal for new kitty. I always cook for my companions. A home-cooked meal beats anything canned or bagged any day of the week. Make sure to use plenty of quality meat. If you’re dealing with a kitten, make sure the meat isn’t too large or she might eat around it leaving the meaty bits behind. Use some broth, a little cooked and pureed liver with butter to make a rich gravy. Take your time, and in about an hour or two, hopefully when They’ve stopped flipping out over the newcomer, take the carrier into the Isolation room with kitty’s first ho
me-cooked meal.

  Be sure to close the door behind you or the Others will follow. They like meat too, you know, and you don’t want to create any competition or complications.

  Just so you know, there won’t be any heartfelt Introductions or any dimensional jumps, yet. Hopefully the Isolation room will be comfortable enough for you to spend some time there with new kitty. Gently place the carrier on the floor, within sight of the door, the litter box, the water-dish, and the bowl of delicious food. Open the carrier and get comfortable. Allow kitty to come out in her own time. If it looks like she’s going to spend the night inside, then lure her out with a morsel of food. If you’re lucky, she’ll come out after a time. If she’s too stressed, she might flee the carrier for the outer limits of the room. Luckily, kittens at this age don’t yet have the ability to transmute, otherwise she’d blip herself into the back of beyond and wouldn’t know how to get home since she wasn’t with you long enough to get a fix on where home is. But, if you’re doubly or triply smart, you’ve set up a nook for her inside an old cardboard box. Once she stops circling the edges of the room and settles down to eat, you can put the blanket from the carrier inside the box. The box should be placed in a corner of the room, someplace out of the way, and in sight of the door, food, and litter box.

  Now, in addition to what you have in your home already, the newcomer may bring along some hangers-on. No worries. They’re just here to make sure new kitty isn’t abused, mishandled, waylaid, or eaten. Once she’s invited into what is now her forever home, and once new kitty is made to feel comfortable here, the hangers-on may opt to go Elsewhere.

  We’ll discuss what to do about Them should they decide to stay.

  Step 4: More Proper Introductions and Setting Boundaries

  We haven’t yet made it to a face-to-face Introduction, but you’ll reach this step when the new kitty isn’t skittish around you and when the Others have stopped any house razing. You’ll know you’ve reached this stage when the newcomer has stopped skirting the margins, kept her focus in this dimension, and has a generally more relaxed attitude. While kittens of this age cannot physically travel dimensions, she can dream and often in the dreaming—where she learns the feline art of transmutation—it’s rather difficult for a kitten to wake up, particularly if she has no attachments to this realm. Read: to You. If you’re extremely fortunate, at this stage she may even greet you when you enter her space. At the very least, she won’t flee when you approach her and, if you’re lucky, she’ll give you the slow eye-blink. If you’re exceedingly lucky, kitty will permit you to pet, stroke, or pick her up. Then you know, she’ll return home to you after her dreaming and transmutation stages.

  By now, she should be eating regularly and using the litter box. To ensure proper hydration, keep giving that gravy with her meal and be sure to use plenty of broth or water in making it. When feeding her, do not for heaven’s sake and the Gods Above, give her dry food that’s kept down all day. She won’t be the one eating it and should she get a nibble here and there, the meat that goes into this kind of food isn’t fit for a gerbil to consume. And, should They be exposed to this quasi-meat for extended periods of time, the Others will begin craving real meat. We said before that we don’t want any competition or complications. The plates of leftover meat, scraps of chicken, tins of Spam or tuna that you leave in the yard or garden every Friday—as instructed in Chapter 2—should more than satiate Them. When feeding, remember NEVER feed the Others in the space you or your kitties live. It will have a dangerous outcome.

  Now that kitty’s established in her new home—or at least in the Isolation wing of her new home—has been staying conscious and present with you, her new Feline Guardian, has been eating and using the litter box regularly, now it’s time for setting boundaries—and perhaps for Introductions.

  You should be using sage. Get a candle and a bell—another book is not necessary.

  It goes without saying that you’ll need matches to light the candle, and a heatproof container for the sage. Traditionally, use an abalone shell, but since they’re endangered and unless you’ve inherited one from old auntie Martha, a small cauldron works perfectly well. I, in fact, prefer the cauldron, since it has handles that keep cool and can stand in for a censer. I don’t like using censers, since they’re a bitch to keep relighting.

  It’s best to have an accomplice here, and unless you’re related to the Great Cthulhu, His Name be Praised, you only have two hands. You want to have total control over the sage and the candle. Ask your accomplice to handle the bell, and be sure to ask him or her to ring it thrice at the close of each invocation.

  For future reference, Invocations appear in Appendix 2, Banishments in Appendix 1 and the Purification Ritual in Appendix 27.

  Before opening the Isolation room, get a healthy plume of smoke pouring from your cauldron, make sure your candle is lit. Begin.

  The first set of Invocations should be repeated 7 times, PRIOR to entering the isolation room. Your accomplice has his work cut out for him. It’s not necessary to get an altar boy. Their ringing is overkill.

  When you enter the room, be sure to close the door firmly behind you. Circle the room three times, slowly, being sure to repeat the Invocations 7 times for each circuit, for a total of 21 times. Should you find the Others in attendance—Their presence will be revealed by a gradual darkening of the chamber, followed by a total loss of light, and quite possibly sound—you MUST continue the Invocations. But follow with a COMPLETE Purification Ritual, which necessitates at least 2 Banishments. Which of the Banishments you decide to use in this case is your choice. I’ve included a variety, including—my favorite—Zoroastrian break fast Banishment. It may seem like it won’t be suitable in this situation, but bringing kitty out from Isolation is similar to breaking a fast—in a manner of speaking. Either way, the Others respond very well to it. Boiling a dozen eggs is entirely your call. I prefer a baker’s dozen, over easy, with a healthy side of bacon.

  Now that this is complete—you have set the first level of boundary for both new kitty and for the Others—you may open the door.

  Should you have live cats in the home, now would be the time for kitty to become acquainted. They may come rushing in like a furry herd of fools, or just ignore her. The latter is the better option. This means she’s like part of the furniture and will remain, for all intents and purposes, here. If they rush in, you may be prepared for argumentative kitties—or they may just be running away from the Others.

  If, however, you’ve enacted your part as a Feline Guardian perfectly, including all the appropriate Rituals and Banishments every Tuesday and Friday, and kept down that saucer of milk and liver on the stoop every Monday night plus the assorted meats on Friday—best done after the appropriate rituals, then you don’t have much to worry about.

  Keep in mind, though, that when kitty gets older, I’m thinking 10 months and up, she will be able to transmute—or dimension hop. She usually will do this in times of extreme stress or joy, and you can rest assured that when you cannot find your kitty, she’s either in the Mouse Fields of Baratheta 9 or saving some beleaguered feline from the pyres in Utrecht in the Early Renaissance. Common sense would tell you to give her a collar with bell, but in the name of all that is holy in this Universe and the next—do NOT put a bell on your kitty. While bells do ward off the Others, they also might cause her to splinch herself upon returning from any given point in time or space. You don’t want a splinched kitty. It’s messy and most vets don’t know how to deal with it, unless they received Rosicrucian training, or possibly got their cheat sheets from OTO.

  If there aren’t any serious threats, plan on keeping the Isolation room still in kitty mode for at least a few weeks. Leave the door open. You want kitty to have her litter box always accessible, but monitor it to make sure that your live cats—and the Others—don’t inhibit her mobility to and fro the room or the box. Once that happens, you’ll have to read chapter 6 on creating, “An Assertive Kitty” which will g
ive you hints and specific instructions on how to counter any bullying efforts, from either the living or the dead.

  A Daddy & Me Day

  “But how do you know, dad?”

  “Because, Stevie, plants need sunlight to grow. When no one’s looking, they stay in one spot. Plants do not move and they most certainly do not eat old ladies.”

  The train rocketed along the track. The rain had stopped, but the thickly strewn autumn leaves made the going slick, causing the train to jump and brake constantly. Stephen Sr. looked at his watch, hoping they would hold the next connection. He hated having to catch the boat across if he missed his connection, and little Stevie was so looking forward to his first Daddy & Me day. Neither of them wanted to be late.

  “But, old Mrs. Scrimshaw disappeared while looking after her plants. You know that, dad.”

  “Yeah, Stevie, that’s a shame—but her plants didn’t eat her.”

  “So, what about mushrooms?”

  Stevie took his snub-nose off the window, where he had it pressed avidly watching the world blur by, and pointed it in his father’s direction, slightly rumpled, nostrils flaring intently. His father’s green eyes flashed in amusement.

  “What about ‘em?”

  “You forgot about the mushrooms? Dad! Seriously? The mushrooms with the teeth and the eyes? The ones that dance around shrieking ‘Fe Fi Fo Fum, I smell the blood of an old lady’s dog!”

  “Of an Englishman.”

  “The dog was English?” Stevie gasped, astonishment successfully hiding his amusement. The setting sun flecked his hair with shades of gold and copper. It made him look much older than his seven years.

  “The rhyme is, ‘Fe Fi Fo Fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman.’ And, it’s about giants, not mushrooms. Mushrooms are harmless. No one has been maimed or killed by a mushroom. Well…a poisonous one but—”