Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound 6 Read online

Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound 6

  by Christopher D. Carter, © 2013

  Text and Illustration Copyright © 2013 Christopher D. Carter

  All Rights Reserved

  Also by Christopher Carter available at ebook retailers:

  Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound 1

  Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound 2

  Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound 3

  Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound 4

  Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound 5

  Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound Annual 1

  Discover other titles by Christopher D. Carter at:

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Next Issue

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  *

  Following the Green Man

  *

  Millborotownville City, NC.

  The elderly fellow sat next to the window and watched the world pass by. He had lived a long, hard life and now that he was retired with an oxygen tank and a tiny monthly check, Calvin felt trapped in an ever-shrinking world.

  “Are you ready for lunch?” came the voice from behind the door, and his daughter, Shelley, peaked in to check on him.

  “Yeah. Biscuits and gravy?” he asked.

  “That’s what you ordered,” she replied as she brought in a hot plate of food with a steaming cup of coffee to wash it down. “Can I get anything else for you before I go to work?”

  “My pills,” Calvin replied as he rested his chin on his hands and his elbows on the card table that sat next to the window in his large bedroom. Staring out the window, he seemed lost to the world.

  “They’re right here on the table,” she said as she pointed to the bottle by his elbow.

  “Oh, yeah,” he said as he continued to stare out the window. “I didn’t see them laying there.” Shelley kissed him on the head and then stepped out the door. She had some work to do, but she would be back for the usual check in after 5:00 p.m. As Calvin continued to stare out the window at the squirrels fighting for pecans in the front yard, Shelley backed her car out of the driveway and drove toward town.

  The biscuits were tasty and filled his appetite, and Calvin began to feel drowsy as he watched a groundhog waddle down the slope of the front yard to its hole. Calvin’s eyes closed and his head nodded forward as drowsiness took over his afternoon. With a snort, Calvin came awake again in the chair, and he rubbed his eyelids before opening them again to look out the window. To his surprise, a strange man with green skin was standing on the other side of the window, looking back at him. Calvin fell backward in amazement and landed back-first onto the floor. Getting to his hands and knees, he looked up again to find that the man had disappeared as quickly as he had appeared. Using the table as a crutch, Calvin pulled himself back onto his feet and fixed his chair back into place.

  “I must be dreaming,” he thought as he rubbed his eyelids. However, once he looked down the hill through the window pane, he realized that he was not in a dream when he caught sight of the green-skinned fellow walking away from the house. Then the stranger disappeared into the woods leading down into the creek that ran adjacent to the front yard. Determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, Calvin grabbed the handle of his mobile oxygen tank, put on his hiking shoes, and ventured out into the front yard for a breath of fresh air. This was also the beginning of a long journey.

  The front yard of their home sloped sharply downhill to the edge of a shallow creek. The water then flowed through an eight-foot tall concrete tunnel that snaked below the highway which ran parallel to the front yard. Calvin, dressed in overalls and packing a small handgun in his front pocket, took his time and carefully walked downhill toward the creek. He made sure to keep his eyes focused ahead of himself where the mysterious green man had disappeared into the tall brush and weeds, and he instantly thought of the consequences of following this stranger alone into a concealed area. Feeling for the gun in his front pocket, Calvin stopped for a moment before reaching the brush and pulled out the pistol to check the number of bullets in the chamber. One, two, three, four . . . not a full chamber, but enough to scare off a trespasser. He hoped that he would not have to use it. As he stood there listening for any movement in the scrub, memories from his childhood came flooding back to him.

  **********

  The boy had just turned ten years old and was looking forward to the birthday party that afternoon. All of his friends in the neighborhood had been invited to his house, and he was expecting quite a crowd. His mother had prepared one large chocolate cake along with a dozen cupcakes to go with ice cream and chips for the occasion, but as the day wore on, no one showed up. By 3:00, Calvin had gone to his room alone to watch the driveway through the window in case someone arrived.

  A half-hour later, a knock came at the door, and his mother answered. Calvin came running down the hallway only to discover a policeman standing in the doorway with his mother.

  “No, I haven’t seen Wilbur today. He was invited over to the birthday party, but we were expecting him to show up earlier. Is something wrong?” Mrs. Smith asked as she handed a photograph back to the officer.

  “His family called us. They said that he had left out the back door this morning without telling anyone where he was going. Normally, we would wait twenty-four hours before beginning a search. You know, in case the kid just ran away from an argument. But I’m a close friend of Wilbur’s father, and I don’t believe that would be the case,” the officer explained. “A neighbor also reported seeing a stranger with . . . well, with green skin . . .,” he said as he looked down at his clipboard. “Yeah, that’s what the report says, with green skin. The stranger was talking to Wilbur from across the street just before he disappeared. Have you seen anyone or anything strange today?”

  “No,” Calvin’s mother answered as she placed her hand over her mouth in disbelief. “No, we have been inside preparing for my son’s birthday party all day. Is that why no one has come by?” she asked herself out loud.

  “Yes, I would think so,” the policeman replied as he glanced over at Calvin. “Most of your neighbors have gone inside and are keeping their children in with them. Maybe you can have that birthday party next weekend,” he said to Calvin with a reassuring smile before turning his attention back to Mrs. Smith. “Will you please let us know if you get any information about Wilbur, his whereabouts, or even if you see anyone suspicious in the area?”

  “Yes, officer. Of course,” replied Mrs. Smith as she shook her head, still in disbelief. “Poor Willie.”

  “We’ll find him,” he reassured her. “Thank you for your time, ma’am,” said the officer with a nod of his cap. Then he turned and walked away as Mrs. Smith closed the door behind him. She then locked and chained the door, and she sat down in her recliner to absorb what she had just been told. Calvin placed his hand on her arm and looked puzzled.

  “Mom. Is Willie okay?”

  “I don’t know, honey,” she replied with a true look of concern. “Have you seen him at all today?”

  Calvin was quiet for a moment as he thought about what was going on around him. Of course, he had not seen Willie at all today. Of all the kids in the neighborhood, Willie was the one that he could count on to show up to his birthday party. And if Willie had been planning on going somewhere, especially today, he would have confided the whereabouts to Calvin. “How could this happen?” he thought to himself without answering his mother’s question. When she put her hands on her hips, impatiently waiting for a reply, Calvin vocalized his thoughts.

  “He was supposed to
be here for the party by now,” he said as he sulked. “This isn’t like him.”

  “Well, the policeman said that a green man was seen talking to him in the street this morning. Do you know anything about any little green men?” she asked, not realizing how ridiculous the question sounded.

  “No,” he replied to the bizarre question.

  “Calvin, given the circumstances, you’ll just have to stay inside today like the rest of the children,” she counseled with a sigh.

  “But what about the party?” he brooded.

  “You and I can have our own party and play cards with your father this evening. And next weekend we’ll invite everyone back over again. Considering the circumstances, I think that would be best for now,” his mother explained. Calvin felt empty inside with self-pity at these words. Then he felt guilty for not feeling more concerned about Willie.

  “Mom, can I go look for Willie?” he asked.

  “Absolutely not! You stay in this house like the rest of the neighborhood, young man,” she scolded. “The police will find Willie . . .”

  “But they never did,” Calvin thought to himself as he tightened his grip on the oxygen tank and stared out into the thicket at the edge of the yard. Then he moved the underbrush to the side with his hand and followed the fresh trail that led into the ominous tunnel.

  **********

  The black full-sized truck pulled into the driveway, and the two field agents stepped out into the yard. Agents Crush and Pound had arrived at the location where they would soon begin their search for Calvin Smith. A lady came through the front door and stood out on the front porch of the old mill house to get a look at who had parked in her driveway. She had been expecting their arrival, and as they came close enough that she could make out their features, she stomped back inside the house and slammed the door. Crush and Pound stopped and looked at each other as if they had experienced this once before.

  “Here we go again,” whispered Crush as he continued up the front steps alone to ring the doorbell. “Isn’t it your turn to knock?” he asked Pound.

  “Hey, I did the drive-thru at lunch, and my eyes are still watering from the pepper spray,” replied Pound from the sidewalk at the bottom of the steps.

  “All right. I’ll take the point,” said Crush as he pressed the doorbell. A few seconds later, the door opened, and Crush found himself staring down the wrong end of the barrel of a shotgun. “Are you Shelley Smith?” asked Crush, surprised but undaunted.

  “It’s none of your business who I am,” the lady replied through gritted teeth. “Who are you?”

  “Shakespeare Crush, from the DAM. You called us about a disappearance,” Crush countered with a fake smile.

  “You know, you’re kind of creepy looking. Why don’t you step down off the porch and show me some identification,” she suggested without batting an eye. Crush sighed and backed down the steps to the sidewalk where he retrieved his wallet. He then tossed his badge and I.D. face up onto the porch so Shelley could easily see who he was. She reached down to retrieve the items while keeping the shotgun steadily aimed at the visitors. When she was satisfied, she flipped the badge and I.D. back to Crush and offered each of the agents a rocking chair on the porch. They accepted reluctantly since she still had the gun, and they sat down nervously waiting for what would come next.

  “Thank you for coming,” she said as she sat the shotgun back inside the house and then joined them on the porch. “I was beginning to think that I was going to get no help at all.” Then she hesitated as the subject became more personal to her. “It’s not like the local authorities haven’t shown up and given some moral support. No, I mean the kind of assistance that is really needed to find my father,” Shelley said and looked into Crush’s eyes for understanding. He had read the report about Calvin’s disappearance, and he was familiar with all of the details.

  “I am sorry for your loss, Mrs. Smith,” replied Crush with sincerity, though he thought to himself that his words could not measure up to her needs. There was an uncomfortably long pause, and then Shelley raised her hand and pointed her index finger at Crush as if in warning.

  “No one believes me, but I did see a green man walking down the street toward this house as I pulled out of the driveway that day. No one can convince me differently,” she said with a righteous anger that Crush could understand. After all, he had witnessed many strange events as a field agent for the Department of Adventures and Mysteries.

  “Ma’am, we believe you. That’s why we’re here,” replied Crush.

  “Ah . . . well. Don’t pay any attention to my frustration. Come inside, and I’ll tell you what I know.”

  **********

  After relating her story to the newest set of ears, Shelley folded her hands in her lap and waited patiently for a response. Pound took the opportunity to respond first.

  “I did some research of odd cases in the area, and some very interesting things came up,” said Pound as Shelley tried to concentrate on what he was saying. She thought that it was quite a strange experience to listen to the stories told by this man with pale white skin and dragon tattoos on his arms. “In the early 1700’s there were recorded sightings of dwarves in this very area.”

  “I suspect there were little people everywhere,” Shelley replied smugly. “I saw two just yesterday at the market.”

  “Yes, but these little people were named the ‘Verdis’ by the French traders in the area,” added Pound. “They were miners who traded gold and silver for goods, and due to their condition, they rarely left the mines to socialize with colonists.”

  “Condition?” Shelley inquired. “What condition?”

  “In broad daylight, their skin was green,” Pound continued.

  “I knew it! I knew it! I’m not crazy,” exclaimed Shelley as she slapped Pound’s knee.

  “No, you aren’t, Mrs. Smith,” added Crush. “You probably did see a green man. But where did he go, and how is your father involved?”

  “I have no idea, but the police did say that it looked like my father may have walked out into the brush by the front yard. Come on, I’ll show you,” she said as she motioned for the two agents to follow her outside. She walked down the hill and stopped at the edge of the underbrush. Pointing toward the road, Crush and Pound could see that there was a creek that ran beneath the road through a tunnel. The tunnel was tall enough for a man to walk through, and the water ran shallow at the bottom. “The police said that dad’s tracks went in there, but they couldn’t find any tracks on the other side. Like maybe he vanished under the road.” Pound and Crush stared into the darkness of the tunnel for a long moment in contemplation, and both men seemed to become mesmerized for a moment. Shelley held up her hand in front of them and snapped her fingers.

  “Hey, are you just going to stand there?” she asked. Crush blinked his eyes and looked over at Mrs. Smith in acknowledgement.

  “Of course,” Crush said as he placed his hand over his mouth in thought. Staring down at the ground for a moment, he then bent down and snatched up a handful of clover. One of the sprouts in particular had caught his attention. “Ma’am, if you’ll wait in the house for a bit, we’ll check things out,” he continued as he placed the single clover in his pocket and proceeded ahead into the thicket. Pound waved to Shelley and then followed in behind.

  Pushing the tall weeds and thorns aside, Crush kept a watchful eye out for snakes as he stepped forward to the bank of the small stream that ran alongside the yard and through the tunnel. Crush examined the underpass and marveled at how an elderly man could drag an oxygen tank through the heavy thicket and rocky stream into the tunnel. With the heavy vegetation bordering the stream, Crush figured that Calvin must have indeed entered that way, and it appeared that they would have to do the same.

  Stretching out his leg and stepping onto a flat rock that jutted out above the water, Crush began to make his way downstream to the underpass. As he stepped closer, a bu
llfrog leaped from beneath a stone and surprised him. Falling backward, Crush landed on his bottom in the center of the creek, soaking his pants in cold water.

  “Nice,” Crush snapped as he got to his feet, his lower half saturated in cold, slimy water. Pound nimbly hopped from rock to rock and passed by him with a snicker. Crush grunted in disgust as he looked down at his damp clothes and then followed in behind. The tunnel ahead was a straight path that led beneath the road, and they could see daylight on the other side. Just as they moved within ten feet of the entrance, the light within the tunnel grew in intensity, nearly blinding them where they stood. Covering their eyes, the two agents stepped ahead onto the concrete foundation, and without hesitation, they leaned forward into the tunnel. The brightness enveloped them, and they disappeared from the creek in Millborotownville City.

  **********

  The world around them began to whirl as they entered into the darkness of the underpass. With Pound on one side of the tunnel and Crush on the other, they felt their way along the walls until they reached an opening on the other side. As they exited the far side into a more tolerable daylight, Crush whiffed the air and followed an invisible scent up a hill and onto the road.

  “Ah, we’re not in Millborotownville anymore,” Crush noted as he looked down at the dirt path where the paved road had been.

  “The Smith house is gone. But where could it be?” asked Pound as he rubbed his eyes to bring his pupils back into focus. Walking through the short tunnel, they should have been able to see the house from the other end, but it was gone. The sky itself was changed; what had once been a bright, blue sky was now partially overcast with a bizarre red, violet, and green tapestry. “I should amend. Where are we?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Crush as he pulled the clover from his pocket and held it up for inspection, fixing his attention on the Trifolium for a moment as he lost himself in thought. The one he had picked was special. It had four leaves. Then he noticed that the ground itself was covered in a thick mass of three-leafed clover of every kind. Forming a long, carpeted road, the trail of clover led toward a mountain in the distance. After standing there for a moment waiting for his partner to make a decision, Pound tapped Crush on the shoulder.