Fantastic Fables of Foster Flat Volume Two Read online

  THE NEXT MORNING THE jangling of the phone next to her bed awoke Ellenore, who had managed to weave herself into her bedroom before collapsing into a deep sleep bordering on a coma. As she instinctively reached for the phone, she gazed at the clock: 9:05. Could it be the bank calling again? She prayed not as she lifted the receiver from its cradle.

  “Good morning.” Her voice sounded like a creaking door resisting being opened. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Good morning.”

  “Yes, it is a good morning,” Rachel said in an exuberant voice. “I just wanted to call to thank you for making my day, my week. I was so thrilled to see your email and with a file attached. I’ll get right to it. I’ve already contacted Avon to let them know I have the manuscript in hand. You know what they said?” Ellenore opened her mouth to answer, but Rachel answered her own question first. “When will she start on the next one?” Rachel laughed, and after a moment’s hesitation, Ellenore joined her. So, Allison’s idea was going to work. In fact, it seemed to be working like a charm. She sat up in bed and stretched, holding the phone in the crook of her neck. There was a long silence on the other end of the line.

  “Well, when will you get me the next one?” Rachel’s tone had suddenly turned serious.

  Ellenore didn’t know how to answer the question. As far as she was concerned, Allison’s idea had been a one-time thing, a desperate attempt to keep her career intact and the wolves from her door. Suddenly, Allison appeared, lying in bed beside her. “Go ahead. It worked like a charm, just as I said it would, and it’ll work again.”

  Ellenore stared at her friend for several seconds before finally turning her attention back to the phone. “I’ve...I feel like I’ve had a real breakthrough in my creativity, Rachel. I’m sure I’ll be able to get a new story to you in the next couple of months.”

  “Really? Awesome!” Rachel replied. “That would be great. After all, we’ve some lost ground to make up. Okay, I’ll get right to reading this one, and you get to writing the next one.” With that, the line went dead.

  Ellenore stared at the phone in her hand, then breathed a sigh of relief. She’d finally made her agent happy again.

  HER ELATION AND RELIEF didn’t last long. In fact, it lasted less than a day. It ended in the late afternoon when she received another call from her agent. She was in the kitchen getting ready to start dinner when the phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID to see that it was Rachel calling again. Probably just calling to give her high praise for the manuscript, Ellenore thought as she picked up the phone.

  “Hi Rachel, what’s up?” Ellenore said in a light and airy voice.

  There was a pause on the other end, then, “Are you sure you want me to send this manuscript on to Avon?”

  “Sure, why not?” Ellenore replied, her mood taking a nose dive into the pits of hell. “Don’t you like it?”

  “Yes, I like it fine,” Rachel said. “I liked it the first time I read it...over five years ago.”

  Suddenly Allison popped in behind Ellenore. “Deny, deny, deny.”

  Ellenore turned on her with a look of worry that quickly turned to one of anger. “Shuddup!”

  “What was that?” Rachel asked.

  “Nothing,” Ellenore replied. “My next-door-neighbor is calling me. I think she may have fallen again. Let me call you back.” Ellenore hung up the phone before Rachel had a chance to reply.

  “She knows.”

  “Well, she might suspect,” Allison said.

  “No, she knows. Hell, I should have known better than to use that first book. That’s the one that I originally sent to her. Of course she’d recognize it. She and I worked on it quite a bit before she shopped it around.”

  “Yeah, that was probably a dumb move,” Allison agreed.

  Ellenore glared at her. “This was your idea in the first place.”

  “Yeah, and it was a good one,” Allison countered. “But even a good idea poorly executed turns into a bad idea. You’re the one who chose the wrong book. You can’t expect me to think of everything.”

  Ellenore picked up an empty wine bottle sitting on the counter next to her and flung it at Allison, who promptly disappeared in a puff of smoke as the bottle shattered against the far wall.

  “THE TRUTH WILL SET you free...but first, it’ll piss you off.”

  It was Calli’s voice, coming from the other end of the bedroom where he stood leaning against the door frame. He wore a silly hat on his head that contrasted with the flowered shirt and lei around his neck. His ensemble was completed with a pair of baggy shorts and flip-flops.

  “Where in hell have you been?” Ellenore shouted at him before jumping out of bed to give him a big hug, but he held up a hand to stop her. “Uh, uh, not yet. I’m not really here. You’re dreaming.”

  Ellenore stopped in her tracks, “Dreaming? Really? Well, that would at least explain that silly outfit you’re wearing.”

  Calli looked hurt. “Well, this is what I’m wearing at the moment. I said you’re sleeping. I didn’t say anything about my level of consciousness. Anyway,” he said, waving one hand to change the subject, “did you hear what I said or were you still too asleep?”

  “Yeah, I heard,” Ellenore replied, annoyed by the question. “Something about telling the truth or pissing on the truth.” She paused to consider what she’d said. “No, I guess I didn’t hear what you said.”

  “The truth will set you free...but first, it’ll piss you off,” Calli repeated.

  Ellenore considered the statement for a moment. “Okay, what am I supposed to do with that bit of fortune cookie wisdom?”

  “How about applying it to the situation you’re in? The situation that lying has dumped you into.”

  “What? You think I should tell Rachel the truth?” Ellenore asked, anger growing in her voice. “I can’t do that. It would be career suicide.”

  “Well, here’s the pissed off part coming through loud and clear. You can’t or won’t?”

  “Take your choice,” Ellenore answered. “It’s all the same. I’m not.”

  “Okay,” Calli replied in a calm voice. “It’s your life. By the way, Hawaii is beautiful this time of the year.” And with that, he faded away like the Cheshire Cat with his silly smile being the last thing to disappear.

  ELLENORE SPENT THE next forty-eight hours in a living hell. Rachel continued to call her several times a day; her calls interspersed with calls from the bank as well as from several creditors. Frustrated, she unplugged the phone but found little solace in the silence that followed. Her mind continued to berate her without ceasing. Finally, she decided to walk to the store to buy some more liquid anesthetic.

  As she walked, Calli’s phrase continued to haunt her. As she passed the playground, she saw Allison once more, jumping rope. She tried to stroll quickly past, but her former friend saw her and joined her in the walk despite Ellenore’s attempts to ignore her.

  “Slow down. I want to talk to you,” Allison said, as she huffed and puffed behind her.

  “Well, I don’t want to talk to you,” Ellenore replied without bothering to turn around.

  “But I know how you can get out of this mess you created.”

  Ellenore stopped and whirled around. “That I created? You’ve got to be kidding!”

  “Okay, okay. Maybe I played some part in this,” Allison conceded, “but don’t you want to hear my idea how you can get out of it?”

  “I’m not sure I do,” Ellenore replied, but with less confidence. After all, I don’t have a clue what I’m going to do. What’s the harm in listening? “Okay, I guess. What’s your idea?”

  “It’s straightforward. Tell Rachel to send the manuscript in and keep her mouth shut about it. Otherwise, you’ll find another agent to represent you.”

  “That’s your idea? Just keep perpetuating the lie?”

  “Listen, you’re Ellenore Michner, one of the most prolific and popular romance writers in the world. There are plenty of agents who’d jump at the chance to
skim their ten to fifteen percent off the top.” When Ellenore didn’t say anything, Allison asked, “Well, what do you think?”

  “I think you’re a royal pain in the ass,” Ellenore replied, “and I want you to leave me alone so I can buy some wine.” She opened the door to the wine store and entered, being sure to close the door with Allison on the other side. When she left with her bag of wine, Allison was nowhere to be seen. Good riddance, Ellenore thought as she twisted off the screw cap of the wine and took a long guzzle.

  But she only drank a few more swallows of the wine on her way home. Calli’s and Allison’s words kept reverberating through her mind. What am I going to do? I can’t keep putting off a decision. She had to tell Rachel something soon, and her creditors certainly wouldn’t leave her alone. I have to make a decision, but what can I do?

  “The truth will set you free...but first, it’ll piss you off.”

  “The truth will set you free...but first, it’ll piss you off.”

  “The truth will set you free...but first, it’ll piss you off.”

  “Leave me alone, Calli!” Ellenore screamed as she ran down the street in an effort to get away from Calli’s voice blasting away in her mind.

  Arriving home, she poured herself a glass of wine and meandered around the rooms of her home. Her once beautiful home had somehow mysteriously transformed into a pig sty. Everywhere she looked, all she could see was an assortment of dirty clothes (she didn’t know she owned so many), food-encrusted dishes, empty wine bottles and stacks of old newspapers and magazines. There was also a distinctive odor permeating through the air, like somewhere amongst the rubble she might find the decaying remains of a dead rat. She walked around each room in an effort to locate the source of the smell, only then realizing that the odor came from her own body. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a shower.

  I can do something about that, she thought. She walked into the bathroom, disrobing as she went. She turned on the hot water and climbed in, lathering herself from head to toe. She continued to let the steamy water wash over her until she ran out of hot water. She climbed out and toweled herself off, feeling better by taking at least one decisive action. So, why stop there, she thought. How about making another small step. She went outside, grabbed one of the empty garbage cans and re-entered the house. She cleaned and washed for the next three hours. Somewhere along the way she decided to dump all the wine as well.

  She took a second, shorter shower before walking into her closet and putting on the brightest color dress she could find. It reminded her of Calli’s Hawaiian shirt. She felt a pang of longing. She missed Calli more than she’d allowed herself to admit. Sure, he’d been the source of her creativity, but more than that. He’d been her best friend, someone she could count on to tell her the truth. But he had needed to get away. He’d tried numerous times to tell her that, but she’d ignored him. Finally, she’d left him no choice but to run away.

  “I’m sorry, Calli. Really, I am.” She sighed heavily. She looked around her. Well, at least when my creditors come to haul my stuff away, they’ll find a clean house, she thought. Now what? Time to confront the real issue I’ve been avoiding. What to do with the fake manuscript I sent to Rachel.

  She walked into the kitchen to place the call to Rachel’s direct line. Keep breathing; she told herself as she listened to the phone ring. Rachel picked up on the third ring.

  “Hello, Rachel, this is Ellenore.”

  “Well, it’s about time you called me back,” Rachel replied, unable to hide the anger in her voice.

  “Yes, I know. I’m sorry. I just needed some time to think.”

  “And?”

  “I’ve decided I want the manuscript sent...” Ellenore stopped to take a deep breath, “but not to Avon. Send it back to me or better yet, just delete it and forget I ever sent it, please.”

  After a long pause, Rachel replied. “Okay, I think that’s a wise decision, Ellenore.” In a softer voice, she continued. “What’s going on, Ellenore? You’ve been one of my best authors, and I don’t just mean most prolific and profitable. I’ve enjoyed your stories, and working with you has been most satisfying. That is, until lately. What happened?”

  Ellenore felts the tears well up in her eyes and begin to stream down her face. She wiped them away from her face and sighed. She heard Calli’s voice again: “The truth will set you free....” That’s all? she thought. How about the rest? But nothing else came. She straightened her shoulders and spoke with more confidence than she felt. “Here’s the situation. I’ve dried up. I’ve no more ideas for romance stories. I haven’t had a decent idea in months. The longer it’s gone, the worse it’s gotten. Now I’ve got bills I can’t pay, and still no fresh ideas. I thought I could doctor up one of my old stories, and it would bide me some time until my muse resurfaced, but you were right. That would be such a disservice to you, my readers, to Avon...and most of all, to me. So, send it back to me or at least delete it. Tell the folks at Avon, I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to fulfill our contractual agreement.”

  There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Finally, Rachel said, in a hushed voice filled with compassion, “I’ll delete the file, no worry. Just hang in there for a bit, Ellenore. Don’t do anything rash. I’ll be back in touch.” And with that, she ended the call.

  Ellenore hung up the phone and looked at her now clean kitchen. Shit! No wine. Maybe I was a little rash in my cleaning, she thought, but then again, maybe not. She didn’t feel like wine. In fact, she felt surprisingly good. What was that feeling she felt? Could it be...

  “Freedom,” a voice said from behind her, but when she turned around, no one was there. Voices in my head again, she thought. I am cracking up. “Go to the playground,” came the voice again. This time it was unmistakably Calli’s voice she heard.

  “The playground?” Ellenore asked, then remembered the playground she routinely passed on her way to the wine store. Oh, what the hell? I may as well give in and do what it says. What else do I have to do at the moment? She grabbed a jacket from the coat rack and walked out the door. On the way to the playground, she marveled at how good she felt. Could the voice have been right? Was this what freedom felt like? How could that be? She still didn’t have a story idea, was about to ruin her career by breaking a contract with her publisher, not to mention the growing number of creditors clamoring for a piece of her skin. But at least I still have my integrity, she thought. Well, let’s be honest. I’m in the process of restoring my integrity, and that feels good.

  As she approached the playground, she saw a lone figure sitting on one end of the seesaw, moving slowly up and down as though there was a second person on the other end, but the other end was empty. Drawing closer, she recognized the colorful Hawaiian shirt and silly hat. It was Calli, come home at last! She ran over to the seesaw intending to give her muse a giant hug just before lambasting him for being gone so long, but he stopped her with a hand signal and pointed to the other end of the seesaw.

  Ellenore reluctantly climbed on, and the two of them went up and down, up and down for a couple of minutes without either of them talking. Each time Ellenore opened her mouth to say something, Calli would put his index finger to his lips and hush her quiet. After another minute or two, she opened her mouth again. This time he smiled at her and nodded.

  “Where have you been?” she asked.

  “You know,” he answered pointing with one hand at his shirt. “Vacationing in Hawaii.”

  “So that was really you in my dream?”

  “Of course,” he answered. “Just as it was really you on the phone confessing to Rachel.”

  “How did you know about that?”

  Calli shrugged and smiled. “I have my ways.”

  After another couple of ups and downs, he asked, “What are your plans now?”

  It was Ellenore’s turn to shrug. “I don’t know. I was hoping you could tell me.” When he didn’t say anything, she continued. “I’m thinking about gettin
g a job, just until I get back on my feet. Something that would pay the bills and keep a roof over my head, little details like that.”

  Calli nodded. “Hmm, I guess that could work...” but he didn’t sound convinced.

  “You have a better idea?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.” He held up one hand, and a book suddenly appeared in it.

  “What’s that?” Ellenore asked, then immediately felt stupid. It was apparent what it was.

  “Your next book,” Calli replied.

  Ellenore stared at the book, trying to get a better look at the cover. “Really? But there aren’t any bare-chested men or swooning women on the cover.”

  “That’s because it’s not a romance.”

  “Really? No kidding? But I don’t know how to write anything but a romance.”

  “I know,” Calli replied with a chuckle, “but I do. Trust me. This is going to be your best work yet...by a mile.”

  “My best work yet?” Ellenore repeated, then stared at him suspiciously. “What’s it about?”

  “It’s about a young artist that loses her way and comes close to selling her soul to the devil, but at the last minute finds her way back. It’s a real tearjerker, but with a happy ending. Interested?”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Ellenore smiled back at him. “Can we go home and talk about it?”

  “Sure thing,” Calli said as he floated off the seat of the seesaw while his end was on the ground. Ellenore gasped, expecting her end to come crashing down, but it too simply floated to the ground.

  As the two of them entered Ellenore’s home, she noticed the blinking light on her answering machine. Probably just a bunch of creditors calling for their pound of flesh, she thought, but decided to check it anyway. No point in trying to run away from her problems.

  She was surprised to hear Rachel’s voice on the recording instead. “Hi, Ellenore. Listen. I had to check with my business partner before I could share this with you. Several years ago, when we started the agency, we decided to set aside one percent of our earnings into an emergency fund. At the time, we thought it would be to help our business through challenging times, but we found that one of the best uses of the fund has been to help some of our loyal authors when they go through dry periods...like the one you’re experiencing now. We want to support you through this spell, so give me a call back and let’s see what you need.” The recording clicked off.