Reading Report. January/February 2025 From Jeff Baker (February 20, 2025)

Posted on February 20, 2025 by jeffbaker307

Reading Report; January/February 2025

I’m reading Stephen King’s first Dark Tower novel; “The Gunslinger.” Told myself I’d do it if I got snowed-in, and I’m not going anywhere in the 1” of snow we had! The book is comprised of five novellas that originally appeared in MFSF and King revised the book slightly for a 2003 edition; removing inconsistencies with the later novels in the series. In the intro, King says his idea was to tell “a tale of wonder,” and he does. It’s a page-turner.

That’s a novel, and unless otherwise mentioned I’m reading short-stories here.

Read some of “Mama’s Bank Account” by Kathryn Forbes. I’d read some of the stories before, years ago. It still holds up!

Read several stories in “100 Wild Little Weird Tales,” one of the “100…” anthologies Barnes and Noble put out many years ago, edited by Greenberg, Dziemianowicz and Weinberg. Collecting lots of the short-short stories (and reprints!) that appeared in the Unique Magazine. “One Chance” by Ethel Helene Coen, “The Other Santa Claus” by Thorp McClusky,” “The High Places” by Frances Garfield (a spooky story set on a plane trip to Wichita!) and “The Hidden Talent Of Artist Bates,” by Snowden T. Hewick that was very reminiscent of Rbt. Arthur’s “Obstinate Uncle Otis.”

I finished reading Andre Norton’s story “Three-Inch Trouble” in the anthology “A Constellation Of Cats.” Perfect last line!

I went on to read Norton’s story “Noble Warrior,” in the first of the “Catfantastic” anthologies she co-edited. It’s the first of a series of stories about the valiant Siamese that appeared in all five “Catfantastic” anthologies. In her last decades, Norton contributed to several theme anthologies, and these stories are fun!

Read the second of Norton’s Noble Warrior stories: “Hob’s Pot,” in “Catfantastic II,” where the feline may accidentally have released supernatural evil in the home he has sworn to protect.

Read the remaining three Noble Warrior stories by Andre Norton in Catfantastic III, IV and V. They play out like a serial novel and I wish all her cat stories would be collected in a book. Noble Warrior considers himself the defender of a Princess and has an affinity for the supernatural and encounters ghosts, wizards and even a hobgoblin. Some are friends, some are foes.

For the record, the remaining stories are: “Noble Warrior Meets With A Ghost,” ‘Noble Warrior, Teller Of Fortunes,” and “Noble Warrior and the “Gentleman.”” The last one reminding me a bit of the last part of Wilde’s “The Canterville Ghost.”

Got a book called “Mark Twain On Writing And Publishing” and have been bumming through it. Great fun, and actually informative!

Read John Floyd’s latest Woman’s World mystery “Shure As Shootin’”

Read E. H. Timms’ monthly story (written for the Flash Fiction Draw Challenge.)

Been reading the weekly installments of J. Scott Coatsworth’s “Down The River.”

And of course, read Kaje Harper’s online stories.

Finally got around to reading Henry Kuttner’s Sword-And-Sorcery stories; read “Cursed Be the City,” the first of two stories he wrote about Prince Raynor (named long before Prince Rainier entered the world’s consciousness!) The story is great fun and the prince has a Black partner who is not played for comic relief, something almost unheard of in 1939. Full of wonderful lines like “…and under all, a dim, powerful motif beat a wordless shrilling, a faint piping that set the Prince’s skin to crawling as he heard it.” I have the stories in several anthologies and collections but was reading it from the Planet Stories publication “Elak Of Atlantis” which collects the stories Kuttner wrote to fill the void in Weird Tales after Robert E. Howard died. The 2007 reprint of the 1985 edition includes an introduction Joe R. Lansdale.

Read several stories from the 1965 paperback “13 French Science-Fiction Stories,” edited by Damon Knight.

“Juliette” by Claude Cheinisse, “Olivia” by Henry Damonti and “The Devil’s Goddaughter” by Suzanne Malaval. That last one like a folktale but with a nasty ending.

I had never read any of Robert Bloch’s pun-laden stories about Lefty Feep. A Runyonesque character who gets involved in the weird. Okay, actually his friends do! Read two of them. “The Weird Doom Of Floyd Scrilch,” with a lot of WWII-era topical references (including an anti-Japaneese racial slur) and a character named “Vincent Van Gouge.” Actually LOL funny in places, and with a spooky last line. It IS a Robert Bloch story after all! The other Feep story I read “The Little Man Who Wasn’t All There” was a disappointment. A so-so comedy about invisibility marred by more ethnic slurs and stereotypes of the WWII era.

Read “Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?” Famous children’s book I got for my niece for birthday/Christmas. I didn’t know that the author Bill Martin, Jr. had grown up in Hiawatha, Kansas!

Read “Two Bedrooms, One Bath And A Ghost” by Richard May in the Bay Area Queer Writer’s Association anthology “Together,” which I got in Sacramento.

Read “The Haunted Grange Of Goresthorpe” by Arthur Conan Doyle in the anthology “Ghosts From the Library.” A story that hadn’t been published until the year 2000!

Read the first three chapters of an excellent story (novel/novella?) a friend of mine sent me. Advance word; get it! It’s a page-turner! I will keep you folks posted!

And I FINALLY got around to reading C. L. Moore’s excellent story “No Woman Born,” one of the great science-fiction stories ever!

And I started reading Moore/Kuttner’s story “We Kill People.” Writer Keith West who blogs at “Adventures Fantastic” https://adventuresfantastic.com/ and recommended it as one of their best.

On both these stories, more later!

Happy Reading, folks!

Posted in Anthologies, Arthur Conan Doyle, Books, C. L. Moore, Collection, E. H. Timms, Henry Kuttner, Invisibility, J. Scott Coatsworth, Kaje Harper, Mark Twain, Reading, Reading Report, River City Chronicles, Robert Arthur, Robert Bloch, Robert E. Howard, Short-Stories, Stephen King | Leave a comment

Progress Report for January/February 2025, from Jeff Baker.

Posted on February 20, 2025 by jeffbaker307

Progress Report January/February 2025

My big achievement over the past month is that I wrote (or started) several columns for Queer Sci-fi. I really like having a backlog of those columns so I don’t have to scramble at the last minute around the 13th of every month.

I worked (a little, maybe not enough!) on a couple of the longer stories. I also diddled around on a few new ideas. I’m trying not to kick myself for not doing as much on the longer fiction. I probably do pretty well, but I’m not getting any younger.

I sat down and started a separate notebook for lists of the stuff I need to finish and am keeping it with me when I go for one of my writing jags at the library. (Yes, I also write at home!)

I wrote the weekly flash fiction stories, as well as the one monthly one. I’ve gotten lazy and procrastinated on writing a couple of them (including the one that’s due tomorrow!) Yes, I wasted a lot of time online, which is the advantage of doing this at the Public Library; I’m not online!

I need to kick my work habits back up.

That’s about it for now.

——–jeff baker, February 20th, 2025

Posted in Progress Reports, Writing | Leave a comment

Meet The Noble One. Friday Flash Fics From Mike Mayak, (February 14, 2025)

Posted on February 14, 2025 by jeffbaker307

The Noble One

by Mike Mayak

Princess Talis smiled as she looked around Paolo’s Bar and Grill. Not the place one would expect to find a princess but at least the food was worthy of someone of royal lineage, if in taste if not in reputation. She sighed. This was a strange country, America. She glanced at the small shelf behind the bar. Just room for a bottle, a little figurine, a helmet from that strange game they called “football” (not the football she knew!) and the small painting of the Moon setting over the ocean with a deep purple sky.

She smiled again. She had done that and gifted that to the bar with thanks for the time they had fed her when she had been thrown out of her apartment. No way to treat a Princess, even an exiled one. That had been three years ago.

It was afternoon and there were few people in the bar. A grey haired man sitting at the bar, wearing a ballcap and a sweater and a burly, younger man becoming frustrated with the pinball machine in the corner. With an angry snarl he slapped at the machine and strode to the bar.

“I want a beer,” he snarled.

The bartender who looked barely old enough to drink himself, said “I think you’ve had enough.”

“I want my damn beer,” he snarled again.

The bartender cleared his throat and politely said “Andy, no more for you. Okay?”

The man was going to say something else when he glanced in the mirror behind the bar and saw the Princess. He turned around and smiled.

“Well, whaddoo we have here?” the man said. “A real pretty little thing too.”

The Princess might have momentarily been flattered. But she had seen his kind before.

“I am…Talis,” she said.

“Cute little furriner,” Andy said with a smirk. “Your kind is costin’ us jobs and causin’ all kinda trouble here. You need to go back where you came from.”

“Where I came from no longer exists,” Talis said thinking of her Father and their vanished island principality. “I wish I could say the same for you.”

Andy’s eyes flashed with anger and for a moment Talis saw a flicker of dark purple in the eyes but then another voice cut in.

“I think you’re bothering her,” said a male voice. The grey-haired man from the bar was standing behind them. He was broad shouldered with a determined look on his weather beaten face. “I think you ought to leave. Or at least leave her alone.

Andy clenched a fist and swung at the man, who ducked and grabbed his shoulders and slammed him against the wall.

“I said LEAVE!” the grey-haired man yelled in Andy’s face.

Andy pulled free, glared at the Princess and then the grey-haired man then stalked out the front door. After a moment, they heard a motorcycle engine revving and leaving the parking lot.

The Princess stood up. She was almost imposing and elegant in her flowing robe of dark blue, matching the painting, with flowers printed like a well-planned garden. She wore what looked like a turban covered in spangles like jewels. The fabric was a light tan that matched her skin.

“I am the Princess Talis of Talar,” she said. “Now living in America. I am in your debt.”

The grey-haired man inclined his head slightly. “That won’t be necessary,” he said. “I’m Alonzo Norton. A fortuneteller told me a long time ago I was the reincarnation of a Knight so I shouldn’t be surprised to meet a Princess at Paolo’s.”

Talis smiled. “You are The Noble One,” she said. “And I see in your eyes the flash of green, the banner of ones destined to battle Angra Mainyu. For it was he who controlled the man you defended me against.

“Angra Who?” Alonzo asked.

“The, what you might call demon who overran my Father’s kingdom and made me flee. I fear this will not be his last attack. And now you have angered him so he may come for you too.”

“Well, I was in the Gulf so It won’t be my first battle,” Alonzo said. “If I was a Knight once it must be my destiny.”

“To defend against evil, Noble One.” Talis said.

“No greater honor,” Alonzo said, inclining his head again. “No greater honor.”

—end—

Posted in Fantasy, Fiction, Friday Flash Fics, Friday Flash Fictions, Short-Stories | Leave a comment

Sleator And Selden Revisited For Our Times. By Jeff Baker, February 13, 2025.

Posted on February 13, 2025 by jeffbaker307

Author’s Note: This installment of my “Boogieman In Lavender” column was first posted on April 13, 2017 on Queer Sci Fi. It says some things about writers that fit our uncertain times today, so I’m re-posting it here. —jeff baker, February 13, 2025.

Two Authors Worth Mentioning

By Jeff Baker

We are out there. We are not always obvious. In the days before the 21st Century’s sometimes grudging acceptance of LGBT YA authors, such authors labored largely in the closet, their works publicly known while their orientation was not. Two authors whose works have recently crossed my desk again are William Sleator and George Selden.

Both names are probably jogging a bygone memory or two. Both had at least one familiar hit; Sleator with “Interstellar Pig,” and Selden with “The Cricket in Times Square.” And both men had definite LGBT connections.

I’ll start with Sleator (pronounced “Slater.”) I first encountered his work in one of those book order catalogs they used to have in schools. (Do they still have them?) The cover of Sleator’s book “House of Stairs” caught my eye; a group of teenagers dancing and jumping on a staircase which hung in a void. Yes, I ordered the book and still have it.

“House of Stairs” sets up Sleator’s themes; young adults caught up in strange events with dark, dystopian implications, with a genuine dystopia just offstage. “Interstellar Pig” features a teen who plays the title game with his mysterious new neighbors and discovers they and the game are not of this world. Comparisons to “The Twilight Zone” have become cliché but for Sleator’s work, they fit.

To me, Sleator’s masterpiece is “Singularity.” Twin brothers Harry and Barry, who don’t get along, discover a mysterious building where time passes differently. In what I consider one of the finest scenes I have read in science fiction, Harry decides to use the building to become older than his dominating brother. In describing the carefully-planned regimen Harry uses to time himself and pass the time with reading, self-education and rationing his food supply as only a few minutes pass in the outside world, Sleator shows Harry maturing in ways far beyond the physical acceleration of his aging.

Sleator’s YA story “In The Tunnels” appears in the LGBT YA anthology “Am I Blue?”

William Sleator did not publicly identify as gay or bi but he was partnered with two different men during his lifetime. He outlived each, and died in 2011.

Much of George Selden’s output is aimed at much younger readers, especially the series that begins with “The Cricket in Times Square.” The book which made the biggest impact on me was 1973’s “The Genie of Sutton Place.” A still very-readable book, it actually started out as a teleplay co-written with Kenneth Heuer some two decades earlier with none other than William Marshall (“Blackula”) playing the genie.

In the book, orphaned young Tim Farr is sent to live with his rich Aunt Lucy and finds a magic spell (in the Necronomicon!!) that summons the title genie from an ancient carpet in the museum. What follows is a fun and at times very sweet read through a “wondrous summer of parakeets and dogs and men,” with Abdullah the Genie disguised as Dooley the chauffer. The real magic is in Selden’s storytelling and words, such as Dooley’s flair for language (“Peace mortal! And dream of thy delight!”) And Dooley’s first time driving a car, magically turning all the lights on Second Avenue green, is a riot!

George Selden’s sexual orientation has been a source of speculation. He never married, and was, under the name “Terry Andrews,” the author of “The Story of Harold,” about a bisexual children’s author which was not a YA novel. For years, Selden was not publicly known as the author of “Harold.” No one has ever confirmed Selden’s own orientation or whether he ever found a partner. Selden died in 1989.

Identity and orientation did not change the fact that these two men wrote good stories which still have the power to entertain and compel, far beyond their intended audience. Good stories have a definite magic.

Best to let young Tim, from “The Genie of Sutton Place,” have the last word:

“That must be the magic. It makes everything feel unreal.”

—end—

Posted in Boogieman In Lavender, LGBT, Politics, Queer Sci Fi, Reading, Writing | Leave a comment

A Year With Three Kitties, by Jeff Baker. February 12, 2025.

Posted on February 12, 2025 by jeffbaker307

A Year With Three Kitties

by Jeff Baker

February 12, 2025

Exactly one year ago, February 12, 2024 I drove the 240 mile, four-and-a-half-hour trip from my Brother’s family’s house to my house in Wichita with something very special; I had adopted three kittens from the litters of two strays they had adopted after they wandered into their lives.

Kittens, maybe but they were ten months old and growing. I met them in June of the previous year, fell in love and decided I wanted them, as the house had gotten too quiet after Darryl died. I made sure they had all their shots and the like and made plans to take them with me in February.

They knew me already from my trips up there and we got along wonderfully. I named then Camden and Ebbet (baseball names honoring Darryl’s love of baseball) and Amy named the third kitty “Miss Meow-Meow,” and never was a cat more appropriately named!

We arrived in Wichita in the afternoon and the kitties quickly settled in to exploring and climbing. There was no real period of adjustment; it’s like they have always been here. They run and play and are indoor cats here in town, outdoor cats when the four of us visit my Brother’s house with its big backyard and tall fence.

The kitties are still growing (to my amazement) and they are loving and a big pain in the butt sometimes!

They have made this house a home again just by being in it. They eat, they snooze, they demand attention. When I was sick over the holidays in December (we all got colds) they slept with me as I crashed out over a couple of days.

They are the Sweet Kitties as I call them. Give them a fallen tissue and they live up to their other nickname: “The Kitties Without Pity.” The house is warm and happy with them here.

So, thank you, Kitties. It’s been a fun year and I can tell by your purrs you feel that way too!

—–jeff baker, February 12, 2025

Posted in Cats, Essay, Family | 2 Comments

“Still Here,” and More For the February 2025 Flash Fiction Draw Challenge. (Mike Mayak, February 9th, 2025)

Posted on February 9, 2025 by jeffbaker307
Photo by Nikko Tan on Pexels.com

Hi! I’m Mike, A.K.A. Jeff Baker.

The draws for the February 2025 Flash Fiction Draw Challenge were:

A Historical Fiction

Set in a Synagogue

Involving a Hair Sofa

E. H. Timms wrote: “Still Here” https://thinkingthinking123.blogspot.com/2025/02/flash-fic-challenge-still-here.html

And I wrote: “Night On Heckel Street” https://authorjeffbaker.com/2025/02/08/night-on-heckel-street-by-mike-mayak-flash-fiction-draw-challenge-story-for-february-2025/

Thanks for participating, and for reading and remember it’s never too late to write your own story, post it in the comments and I’ll link it here.

We’ll be back with another draw on March 3rd, 2025.

Thanks again!

—–mike

Posted in E. H. Timms, Fiction, Historical Fiction, Mike Mayak, Monthly Flash Fiction Draw Challenge, Short-Stories | Leave a comment

Night On Heckel Street by Mike Mayak. Flash Fiction Draw Challenge Story for February 2025.

Posted on February 8, 2025 by jeffbaker307

Night On Heckel Street

by Mike Mayak

The hair sofa crinkled as Lev shifted his position.

“How long have we been sitting here?” Lev asked.

“Since Midnight, Walter said. “Just about three hours.”

The two men glanced around the darkened Heckel Street Synagogue. Familiar but dark and quiet except for the occasional sound of a car from outside.

“Rabbi Klein must’ve been pretty worried or he wouldn’t have us standing guard in the place at night.” Lev said.

“Glad we don’t have to stand!” Walter chuckled. “Rabbi has a right to be worried, considering how things are in this country right now.”

“Protests, threats of violence,” Lev sighed. “Who would have thought things could change like this after just one election?”

“My Grandmother used to say that “In the darkness, the stars are still there if we look.” Walter said.

“Still, if there’s trouble I brought this,” Walter said pulling the object out from under the sofa.

“My nephew’s baseball bat.”

“I’ve seen those!” Lev said. “Did he get that when he visited America?”

“Yes,” Walter said, smacking the bat in his palm. “He said if things get bad I could use it on Hitler.”

—end—

AUTHOR’S NOTE: The Draws for the February 2025 Flash Fiction Draw Challenge were Historical Fiction, set in a Synagogue involving a Hair Sofa. A pretty obvious story but one I felt I ought to write. —–mike

Posted in Fiction, Historical Fiction, Monthly Flash Fiction Draw Challenge, Short-Stories | Leave a comment

One Afternoon With Dinosaurs. Friday Flash Fics by Mike Mayak (aka Jeff Baker) February 7, 2025.

Posted on February 7, 2025 by jeffbaker307

One Afternoon at Luanne’s Fashionable Boutique

by Mike Mayak

“Pop! Pop!” Maxwell called, running into the back office.

“Don’t call me Pop,” the older man behind the desk said. “What happened?”

“They broke down the fence again,” Maxwell said pointing towards the front of the shop. “And they’re in the parking lot.”

The two of them walked through the shop full of fashionable, decorative items, festooned in veils and lights and a special Valentine’s Day display. They walked out the front door, under the sign reading “Luanne’s Fashionable Boutique” and into the small parking lot. The lot was black asphalt surrounded with small bushes, trimmed and sculpted into various shapes and festooned with small white Christmas lights.

The two small dinosaurs were happily munching on one of the low bushes, blissfully unaware of anybody or anything.

“See?” Maxwell said. The kid was tall, pale, dark-haired and in his early twenties. He remembered riding a brontosaurus at DinoPark next door when he’d been in Grade School.

Pop was old, at least forty-five and looked a lot like Ed Asner. The kid didn’t know who that was. Some people said Pop looked like he should always be smoking a cigar, but he didn’t smoke.

“They trampled that flimsy wire fence and marched right in again,” Pop said disgustedly.

“It’s probably the lights on the bushes,” Maxwell said. That’s what attracts them.”

“No, I think it’s just the fact that the greenery looks like a buffet,” Pop said. “I went over and told the owners last time they ought to make extra money renting those things out to mow people’s lawns.”

“Yeah,” Maxwell said.

“Hey! You!” Pop yelled. “Get away from there!”

The smaller dinosaur looked up for a moment and went back to munching on the bush. The slightly bigger one spat out a light bulb and stuck it’s head further into the greenery, only it’s own long, deep green neck visible.

“Swell,” Pop said. “And one of those damn things is gonna swing his tail and put a dent in somebody’s car. You go over to DinoPark and tell them to come get their green…” Pop sputtered.

Maxwell nodded. He tried not to grin; he’d get to talk to Kurt at DinoPark again. He wasn’t quite sure if that was the reason they never reinforced the fence.

Maybe he could ask Kurt out—and he’d be on the clock to do it!

As Maxwell was walking away, giving the munching dinosaurs a wide berth, Pop called out behind him.

“And see if you can sell your boyfriend on a couple of our decorative bushes. Maybe if they have their own they won’t eat ours.”

Maxwell blushed and grinned as he headed over to DinoPark.

—end—

Posted in Fantasy, Fiction, Friday Flash Fics, Friday Flash Fictions, LGBT, Mike Mayak, Science Fiction, Short-Stories | Leave a comment

February 2025 Flash Fiction Draw Challenge Draws. (A Couple Days Early, February 1st, 2025) from Mike Mayak.

Posted on February 1, 2025 by jeffbaker307

Since I’m replacing my worn-out laptop, I’m doing these draws a couple of days early! So, here’s the prompts for the February 2025 Flash Fiction Draw Challenge. Followed by my usual long-winded explanation:

Historical Fiction

Involving A Hair Sofa

Set in A Synagogue

Now, on to the details.

Hi! I’m Mike Mayak, I also write as Jeff Baker and I’m the current moderator for the monthly Flash Fiction Draw Challenge, which was started by ‘Nathan Burgoine a few years ago and carried on by Cait Gordon and Jeffrey Ricker. It’s a monthly writing challenge mainly for stress-free fun that anyone can play.

Here’s how it works: the first Monday of every month I draw three cards; a heart, a diamond and a club. These correspond to a list naming a genre, a setting and an object that must appear in the story. Participants write up a flash fiction story, 1,000 words or less, post it to their website and link it here in the comments. I’ll post the results (including, hopefully, one of my own!)

As I’m no good making videos I did the drawing offstage. So, the results were the King of Hearts (Historical Fiction), the Seven of Diamonds (A Synagogue) and the Jack of Clubs (A Hair Sofa.)

So we will write Historical Fiction, set in a Synagogue, involving a Hair Sofa.

We’ll have the results here in this same space around Monday February 10th, 2025, if my laptop is ready!

So, get to writing and I’ll post the results next week! And I’m putting the 2025 Flash Draw sheet at the end of this message, again! (* indicates those have been used.)

Thanks for playing, and I’ll see you in about week!

And have fun!

——mike

Here’s the list:

Flash Draw Sheet for 2025 (“*” indicates prompt has been used.)

Clubs

A A Rusted Knife

2 A Set of Stereo Speakers

3 A Spare Tire

4 A Moldy Wig

5 A Clown Costume

6 A Bowl Full Of Jelly

7. A Circus Poster

*8 A Bottle Of Poison

9 A Director’s Chair

10 A Bicycle

*J A Hair Sofa

Q A Crystal Ball

K A Set of Leg Irons

Hearts

A A Mystery

2 A Fairy Tale

3 A Caper Story

4 A Horror Story

5 A Fantasy

6 Science Fiction

7. A Comedy

8 A Paranormal Story

*9 A Shaggy Dog Story

10 A Western

J A Romance

Q A Cyberpunk Story

*K Historical Fiction

Diamonds

A A Swimming Pool

2 A Pool Hall

3 A Space Station

4 An Olympic Stadium

5 A Palace

6 A Trolley

*7 A Synagogue

8 A Library

9 A Race Track

* 10 A Line Outside a Theater

J The Empire State Building

Q A Convenience Store

K The Australian Outback.

Posted in 'Nathan Burgoine, Cait Gordon, Jeffrey Ricker, Mike Mayak, Monthly Flash Fiction Draw Challenge | 1 Comment

Friday Flash Fics—Noblesse Oblige With Bryce Going. January 31, 2025.

Posted on January 31, 2025 by jeffbaker307

Noblesse Oblige

by Jeff Baker

(A Bryce Going Story)

I was working in a little diner on the outside of town when I found the money.

Corley’s Burgers was about the size of a couple of single-wide trailers fixed together at a big right angle, with the kitchen in the other trailer behind the counter.

The dining room had a row of tables with metal cushioned chairs on one side and cushioned seats built into the wall on the other. Napkin dispensers and ketchup on every table. They made an effort to make the place more homey, with several big potted plants and multi-colored curtains on the windows and pictures on the wall of outdoor scenes.

I bussed tables, vacuumed the floors and washed dishes. Stuff I’d done before. Polly, the owner had started as a waitress ten years earlier back in the ‘60s and she was nice but firm. You did your job right things were okay.

Polly was tall and lean with brown hair streaked with grey. She liked me and if she didn’t believe the story I gave; that my name was Bryce Going, that I wound up in town after an argument with my girlfriend where she tossed me out of the car on the highway and I was twenty years old without any I. D., she never questioned it.

I was glad, especially the part about the girlfriend. She may have caught me glancing at the backside of Robbie, the regular dishwasher once but she didn’t say anything. And she paid me in cash which was nice. The town wasn’t big and I was renting a beat-up old trailer from someone. Not really furnished but it had heat and a toilet so I didn’t complain. For a closeted Gay kid whose parents had bailed on him and was avoiding a boys home by pretending to be in his twenties I was doing okay.

Burgers and coffee were our most popular item, emphasis on the coffee. We had our regulars, a lot of them truck drivers who stopped for lunch (we closed at seven in the evening) and a handful of people from town who spent the afternoon shooting the breeze and ordering coffee refills for their table.

Mr. Mortonson was one of them. He looked seventy-ish, had long grey hair hanging down from a bald spot and usually wore a green overcoat and slippers. I talked to him a few times; he asked me a couple of questions when I was cleaning off the table next to his and was generally pretty nice. He asked if I was going to the community college in the nearby town and I told him no, I’d dropped out of High School. Which I guess I had, although I’d never thought of it that way before.

He even tipped me once as he was leaving; pressing a dollar bill into my hand and telling me he’d had a few lean times too.

“Noblesse Oblige” he said with a grin as he walked out the door.

Believe me, I thanked him and saved the dollar.

The store was closed and I was sweeping up and cleaning off the tables when I found a funny-looking coin in one of the booth seats in the crevasse where stuff usually wound up.

It was the size of a quarter but it didn’t look or feel like any quarter. There were symbols on one side that I couldn’t read and the other side had an engraving of a face with a long beard. The coin was worn as if from years of rubbing and the beard looked stringy almost like a squid’s tentacles.

Polly had left to make the night deposit at the bank. I was glad Victor the cook had gone with her. He was big and intimidating and he had a gun that we weren’t supposed to know about.

As I grabbed the little wastebasket behind the counter I glanced out the window. It had been cloudy all day but the sky was clearing and I could see the full Moon.

I dumped the wastebasket into the trash bag I was carrying and I heard a rustle from across the room. I looked up. Nobody. I walked over to the trash can by the front door and I heard the rustle again.

I glanced up.

The potted plants were moving.

I was never sure what they were, some kind of fern or some tall kind of grass. But they were all waving, like in a breeze. They were waving in unison. I walked over, feeling for a breeze, maybe the air conditioner had come on.

One of the plants reached out and grabbed my wrist with a long leafy tendril.

I screamed and jumped back.

The plants wobbled and shuddered in their pots and a couple of them started wobbling towards me. I yelled again and was going to run but I tripped and fell. With a clink, the coin fell out of my shirt pocket and lay there on the faded carpet. It glinted with a glow all its own, a glow like the full Moon.

The wobbling plants were advancing on me. I managed to pull myself up and ran for the door. I almost screamed again; Mr. Mortonson was standing there in the big glass door an anxious look on his face. He pointed at the door handle and I opened the door, intending to run out but he brushed past me and grabbed the coin and held it up in front of the advancing plants and began to mutter or chant.

I couldn’t catch what he said but part of it said like “Aye-Aye,” and “You-Hoo Flagging.”

The plants wobbled back to where they had been and suddenly I KNEW they were just plants again.

Mortonson pocketed the coin and smiled apologetically.

“They won’t bother you again,” he said. “It was a bad day for me to bring this outside,” he patted his pocket with the coin in it. “But I forgot. I’m old.”

He shrugged and headed for the door.

He turned around and smiled again. “You’ll be fine,” he said.

“But what?” I started to ask.

He put a finger to his lips. “Noblesse Oblige,” he said and walked out the door.

I finished cleaning up and considered quitting, all the while keeping an eye on the plants.

—end—

Posted in Bryce Going, Fantasy, Fiction, Friday Flash Fics, Friday Flash Fictions, H. P. Lovecraft,, Horror, LGBT, Short-Stories | Leave a comment