Observing the Coffee Shop People... And a Little Love and Passion - Entry 8

Image courtesy of Jeroen van Oostrom/FreeDigitalPhotos.net       

This started as a writing exercise as I sat at the coffee shop observing people for character development.

Reading over it one day I  decided to write a short story based on the characters.  I kept it in the form of a journal.

June 12th…

Ok something has to give sooner or later.  Stories keep being rejected, but remember Stephen King’s spike holding all his rejection slips.  Hold on and don’t give up, my time has not yet come.  Maybe I need that partner who will find my breakthrough story I tossed in the trash and he tells me how it will be my story to lead me to success.  Yeah sure, I should be so lucky.  What do I want, luck in publishing or luck in love? Maybe both, is that too much to ask for?

Get that coffee. A good jolt to the system is always the cure to what ails you.  Oh my, the coffee counter girl has green and white streaks in here hair, must be a real company girl.  Don’t have to worry about here thinking I’m strange for the way I take my coffee or bagel. 

Did I ever tell anyone that I feel energy from people?  Well I do very strongly. That is why I have such a hard time going to conventions and seminars.  Conventions especially where people are from all over the country or other parts of the world.  People who are looking for a quick sexual encounter just because they are there and can get away with it. And after all what are conventions for, at least for some of the population. That activity emits a lot of energy, energy that I pick up very strongly and can be very difficult for me to handle. So I stay away from all the writers’ conventions, just to keep myself calm. Is that why I can’t get published? 

Someone here has some strong energy I am detecting it right now.   Don’t think they are here for a tryst, but they have something going on.  Who is it? My, oh my, this man coming up to the counter for his coffee.  Wow, tall, very broad shoulders tapering down to a pretty nifty butt I must say. Think some twenty something jocks could be jealous of that, or maybe give them hope they can look that way at this age.  He must be around sixty, and well preserved, more hope for getting older.  He does smell good, haven’t been close to a good scented man for a long, long time.  Oh my God he has blue eyes. I feel faint like a teenager next to the football hero. I think I am getting a hot flash.  No wait I took my hormones today, must be a flash of lust.  Like he is going to even notice me, silver haired with my skin thinning and loosing its elasticity, but look he has graying hair and I must ad a little skin showing on the top of his head.  I never would have thought bald would end up looking sexy and appealing. Getting older sure does change your view of things. Remember Grandpa, remember Chemistry book man, they were not looking at the ‘young chicks’. He drinks his coffee the same way I do dark roast with a shot of espresso, our first thing in common.  How romantic!   Oh, he is using his wife’s coffee club card; oh no he asked if he could change it to his she has passed.  Poor man, I know how that feels, should I give him my condolences?  Oh come on, snap out of it.

Get control of yourself silly old girl.  Take your coffee not his. Oh how embarrassing. I hope he didn’t notice.  Go to your table.  Write.  Drink coffee.  Daydream about Football Hero...

© Copyright 2014   Eileen A Partak

 

Bookstore on the Corner

Image courtesy of eapartak collection

My skin tingled my heart raced as if I had been reunited with an old lover. The musty smell of paper, the scent of old books caressing my senses. My quest was to find as many used bookstores across the country that I could.  I wanted to see how they were set up and how they were managed so one day I could have my own.

I know books are supposed to be a thing of the past.  Everyone has a Kindle or whatever each corporation calls theirs. I even fought with some elderly women in a bookstore about them. ‘All books will be assessable as e-books one day - even textbooks’ they said. But what if I love books. Love the smell - love the feel of them. Love what running my fingers along the binding does to me and where it takes my mind, why do I have to give that up? ‘You do,’ they told me, ‘it’s the way it is now.’ That is something I cannot surrender myself to accept. I have my wants and my desires in life and no one will control what they are.

This shop looked abandoned from the outside, the old building was deteriorated. The brick needed tuck-pointing and most of the windows were boarded up. The faded, red painted sign on the only window still in place just said ‘Bookstore.’  The rest of the town was new construction, with a new bookstore/café across the street. No one seemed to care that this building stood in rotted condition falling away around itself. It stood there as if it were invisible, defying what everyone dictated a brick and mortar bookstore should look like, even better, defying the fact actual books would soon be a thing of the past. I loved this rebellious store. It defined me, a non-conformist standing alone conquering the world.

I almost decided not to stop here, but just go on to the next town. This place was so far from any populated area, but part of me liked that idea.  My computer search directed me to this location, those websites are not always reliable and seeing this place I really doubted it was still in business. I got out of my car and looked through the one large window that was not boarded up.  It held a display of all my favorite classics, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, The Jungle, Alice in Wonderland, The Complete Works of Edger Allen Poe, just to name only a few. I knew I needed to make this stop on my bookstore quest. This one could give me all the information I needed regarding how to be a bookstore owner. I came all this way - I had to at least see if I could get in.

The door creaked as I stepped into this dark mysterious old shop. The wooden floor seemed to give at my every step, and that musty perfume of old paper affected me as always. This store seemed to have dampness unlike the others and a scent that was familiar, but also foreign to my senses. My eyes raced over the shelves filled with books from floor to ceiling. I could see dust had collected on the bindings and cobwebs meandered down each shelf like a snake’s twisted path in the dust. I looked up to a mezzanine and a beautifully carved dark oak railing. Behind the railing were ladders, the kind that had wheels and rolled on a track above shelves so you could reach every precious book near the ceiling. This place looked just like pictures of old time libraries I had seen in books and movies. I felt as if I had stepped into my own heaven, a place where I could spend the rest of my life.

“Welcome to my store Miss. I have the feeling I have what you want.”

I was startled by the voice behind me and turned around to see who had pulled me back to my earthy existence. Behind me stood a tiny old man with thick glasses, thinning salt and pepper hair and a pencil thin mustache sitting above his top lip like a skinny little caterpillar. The typical stereotype of the bookish person I had created in my mind.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know if anyone was here, the store seems abandoned.” I continued to look in wonder around the store as I talked. “I’m sure you do have everything I am looking for. Are you opened for business?” I was starting to feel a little uneasy suddenly thinking I could be trespassing and this cute little old man may pull out a pistol and shoot me at any minute.

“Oh yes I am opened for business, but business is slow these days. People don’t want to read the old classics. They don’t even want a real book anymore,” he sighed as he also looked around with the look of a loving father admiring his children.

“I guess I could get the new things people want so I could lure customers in. I keep hearing I need to change with the times in order to keep the business going, but I just can’t.”  He let out a big sigh again looking around, “I’m getting too old, it is time to let go. This store has been in my family for generations. I love and care for these books the same as every member of my family has in the past, but now, now it will just die. I keep hoping some young person may be interested in keeping it all alive. Anyway you don’t need to hear an old man’s sob story. My name is Mortimer,” he said with a little bow of his head. “Anything I can help you with please do not hesitate to ask. I can tell you about any book or about anything in general”.

Here I was standing in my dream with this lonely old man. “I’m Angela. I love books, love the old stores. I want to one day own a store like this. I have been researching old bookstores across the country. I must admit there are not very many left and yours – well I must say it is the store I have seen in my dreams”.

It was the store of my dreams, even down to the big library table in the corner surrounded by dark leather chairs that proudly wore cracks and lines from many years of use. As I spoke his eyes were bright and his mouth turned with a slight knowing grin. He just stood there looking at me as I engulfed the surroundings.

“Angela, you are a blond heavenly messenger sent to this Dead Sea of Books. The books are dying. Look around while you can, it will soon be gone.  Now, please excuse me, I have some work to do, as I said, I will be happy to answer any questions when you are finished,” and off he disappeared into the dusty darkness of the store.                              

I looked around, then slowly I moved up the creaking stairs to the mezzanine level, the more I looked it seemed I found, resting on the dusty shelves, every book I ever read and those I still wanted to read.  I didn’t see how I could ever leave this place. It would take me an eternity to read all the stories this heaven held.  I coughed with each breath as the dust swirled in the air and found its way to my nostrils into my throat and lungs.  Dust from the words of the authors I adored, their creativity choking me, consuming and becoming part of me as I slid each volume off the ancient shelves.

After a few minutes had passed Mortimer ascended the stairs, with a floating like magical movement. He held a tray with a teapot, and sandwiches that rested on delicate china that was trimmed in gold with pale pink rosebuds.

“I thought you may be hungry and thirsty,” he said has he gently set the tray on the library table without a single drop of tea spilling.  “You have been up here for hours.”

Hours I tried to exclaim, but the dust in my throat captured me into another hard coughing spell. Mortimer handed me the tea and told me to drink it to clear my throat. I took the cup from him and swallowed the warm tea to bathe and soothe my parched throat.

“Thank you I seemed to have developed a cough, all the dust from these old books I have been in contact with I think,” I then took another sip of the sweet warm tea.

“Honey is the answer. Honey in the tea it is a natural way to keep the throat clear. After awhile your body gets use to the old paper and dust, just give it time,” he motioned for me to sit down.

We sat in silence as we ate our sandwiches. Finally Mortimer dabbed his mouth with the white linen napkin.  He looked me straight in the eyes, “Well what do you think? This can all be yours with no more searching – this is what you’ve been looking for.”

I gulped down the last of my sandwich in disbelief.  Was this old man offering me this store filled with these valuables?  It seemed too good to be true, a dream, it had to be a dream.

“I love the place. I would give anything to have it, but I don’t have the kind of money to purchase a place with the assumed value of this. I’ve been searching for information to learn about having a place. To start out slow and build up to this.”

“No need to build up, no need to start slow, it is all here now,” he moved his arms around and then in front of me as if gathering the building and handed to me. “You don’t need money. I am giving it to you.”

“Wait, just a minute. You told me this has been in your family for generations. It has to mean a lot to you, how can you just give it away”?

“You love the books. My books need to be loved. I know you will cherish them, take care of them, I see it in your eyes. Make an old man happy, stay and run my store.”

“What about family? Your family may be upset if you give away property that rightfully belongs to them.”  My cough was getting worse with each sentence I uttered. My emotions were running wild. I could get my life dream by taking this gift, or be sued from his family for taking advantage of an old man. I didn’t know what to do; he seemed serious about handing it over to me.

“There is only my grandson – Thanatos,” he said as he gave me more tea. “He is young like you and loves the books too. But he says he can’t run something that is dying, at least not by himself, and we all know this is dying.”

Grandson. I get it now, nerdy - ugly grandson who can’t get a girl. Grandpa is his matchmaker.  Sure hypnotize a book-loving female with a business to get loser Thanatos a bed partner. He figures I won’t see what a nightmare the grandson is if I get my dream for free.

“Mortimer, I don’t think you have the authority to give this away without your grandson’s approval. This is a generous offer, but I can’t take your store.”

“I have all the authority - this is my bookstore.”

Each thing I said he had a comeback. I felt as if I were playing chess with a master and soon I would hear ‘checkmate’ and surrender the game to him. But would I lose or win, for losing the game I would win the store I so wanted.

“Thanatos will be here later. We will all talk and then make it final. Look around some more, you have seen nothing yet,” he stood up and gathered the plates and cups, then floated back down the stairs.

I explored the store some more.  Up on the third floor was a children’s section. I took an old copy of ‘Pinocchio’ off a top shelf, not the modern tale with the cute innocent marionette that turned into a boy, but the story that upset me as a child where Pinocchio killed the talking cricket that tried to teach him how to be good. Next on the shelf was The Grimm Brothers Fairy Tales, the originals not the tamed down versions most of us grew up with.

Wandering into the next room I noticed a door near the back of the room.  Getting closer I read the words on a small metal sign: No Admittance - Owners Only. Of course my hand immediately went to the antique glass doorknob, as I tried to turn it I heard a chair move, looking behind me there was Mortimer and someone else I could not see clearly.

“Do you not read Angela? I thought you turned down the offer of ownership presented to you. Was I mistaken?”  He then stepped aside to reveal the shadowed figure behind him.  “This is my grandson Thanatos. I think you two may have much to discuss.”

I recognized him, tall with short black hair, eyes so blue the sky would be jealous. There he stood another one of my dreams. It was as if there was a camera in my brain projecting my thoughts and desires for the world to see. He took a step toward me his hand outstretched to shake mine.

“Hello Angela. Grandpa Mort has told me about you.”

“So nice to meet you Thanatos,” I took his hand to shake but my body shook more.

“Please call me Than. So you want a bookstore, but you don’t like this one?”

I could feel the hot rush of embarrassment color my face. “No. I mean yes. I mean I want a store and I love this one, but Mortimer, your grandfather wants to give it to me. I can’t do that.”

He tilted his head and stared at me with those eyes, and smiled the same knowing smile as Mortimer. “But it’s your dream, it’s why you started your quest. So why would you turn your back on such an opportunity?”

I looked back ready to tell him why, but I didn’t really know why. It was the place I wanted all my life, the place I would have given my last penny for. Here it was being given to me for a reason I did not know, and I was turning it down. I guess that was the answer, for what reason was I getting this?  I started my quest to learn about bookstores. Could I really walk away from here, not only having the opportunity of learning how to manage a bookstore, but to own one. I was ready to tell Than my answer and another coughing spell consumed me.

“It’s the book dust, you will get used to it,” Than said. “Grandpa Mort why aren’t you taking care of her?”

“I’ve been trying to Thanatos, you take care of her.”

Than lead me over to a chair to sit and took a throat lozenge from his pocket and gave it to me.  “Contains honey it will…”

“I know- I know- it will keep the throat clear,” I took the wrapper off the lozenge and popped it in my mouth.

“Grandpa Mort why don’t you leave us alone. I have to talk with Angela.”

Mortimer made a grumpy sound and turned and disappeared from the room.

“You have to excuse him, he comes on a little heavy sometimes”.

“You’re telling me. What kind of game is he playing anyway? Now tell me why would he give a store like this to me?”

Than shook his head and grinned. “Well he doesn’t mean he would just hand it over to you, he would like me to have it. I told him it was too much work for something that is all but dead.  He thinks if he finds me a business partner I will take it. He loves this place. He loves his books and doesn’t want to see the place dead and gone. You love the books as much as he does, it’s what you want too, and he sees that.” He said his words, and then just stared at me as if waiting for my next move.

What should I do? Here was my opportunity, something I would give anything -everything to have.  Did fate bring me here? Would I be crazy to pass this up? I looked at those irresistible eyes. I was picturing the two of us working in the shop together - forever.  Should it matter that some people think books are dead? I don’t. I don’t think Than really does either. Mortimer seemed to love the idea, seemed it was his plan all along, like he knew I would be walking through that door today.

“Come let me show you something,” he led me over to the forbidden door, opened it and told me to follow him inside. The room was very cool and dark.  Than turned on the light. I was surprised at how large the room was it seemed much too large compared to the size of the building.

“This room holds the oldest and most precious volumes. First editions of every classic ever published. We even have the first book ever printed,” he said pointing to the shelf to his right.

“You can’t mean the Gutenberg Bible?”  My voice seemed to get lost as I tried to get the words out.

“Well, yes we have that too. But I was talking about the Diamond Sutra, it was printed around 868 AD.”

I stood there with my mouth half opened, not sure what the words were Than was telling me. “I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a Buddhist religious text, written in Chinese and printed on paper from woodblock, believed to be the oldest book. But one never knows what may yet surface that could be older.”

Than walked over to me. Taking my hands and in a soft sensual voice he asked, “What would you give to have all of this?”

My mind was spinning with the thought of having all these books. To be the owner of the oldest books known to mankind was beyond anything I could imagine.  I didn’t even care how they got possession of such treasures. My heart was pounding out of my chest, my breath out of control. What would I have to do to acquire this? How was I led here to find such treasures? I was ready to spend eternity here. To live forever with these cherished books. “I’d give my life for all this,” I said without hesitation.

Than put his arms around me and pulled me close to him. “Checkmate,” he whispered with a smile.

Alphabet Story

A little writing exercise using every letter in the alphabet - multiple use of a letter is okay as long as every letter has been used at least once - try it, it's fun. Enjoy the crazy little ditty -

 Image courtesy of twobee /FreeDigitalPhotos.net 

An idealistic kangaroo became restless. Dreamed he played xylophone.  Left zoo for orchestra.  Jumped moving train. Worried every night until voice said, go complete your quest. 

Captured Fire - Part 7

Image courtesy of suphakit73 /FreeDigitalPhotos.net

This is the Seventh

installment of the 

short story 

Captured Fire

This story is the story of a nine-year-old boy,

Robbie, who enters a magical world where he learns about the meaning of life,

friendship, and respect for others

***

The morning after the ceremony Robbie was up bright and early, a little tired from all the celebrating the day before, but ready to receive his orders.  He didn’t understand what orders meant; it must be his job or where he was going to live. He figured it must be something like that, after all what does a firefly really do.

All the new cadets met in the training room all excited anticipating the start to their new life as mature fireflies.  As he sat waiting for the captain of assignments to arrive he noticed a large map on the wall.  He strained his eyes to see it and noticed it was a map of his neighborhood, his neighborhood as a boy.  Through the door the captain of assignments walked in carrying a clipboard. 

“Today is first assignment day,” he said as he surveyed the eager group. “Each of you will be given an area to work. Today you will observe those with experience.  When I call your name you will go with your group leader.”  He then started to read off names.

“These individuals are assigned to Poplar Street, Cagewire, Runter…” each firefly stood in line and then was escorted out with their leader.

“These individuals are assigned to Mayberry Street.”

Robbie’s eyes opened wide, Mayberry Street, he was astonished thinking that is where he lived.

“Schrewer, Martworth, Robbie…”

Robbie stood up quickly and took his place in line.  ‘I am going home,’ he thought.  Then his thoughts stopped.  ‘How can I go home? I’m not a boy anymore but a firefly. This is my home now.’

Robbie followed the others out of the room and down the hall into the dining room where a huge meal was waiting.  They all ate the breakfast in silence either because of excitement or nervousness, but not a word was spoken.  After they were finished eating they were introduced to the rest of their squad.  These were mature fireflies who were huge and muscular next to the little cadets.  Some of the fireflies had rips in their wings or antenna missing, but it didn’t seem to matter to them. They all strutted around the room with immense confidence.   The cadets looked at them with envy hoping to one day be just like them.

The cadets were then paired off in twos to a big firefly who would be their work trainer. Robbie and his group were assigned to a big scary fly that had a missing eye, two ripped wings and only one antenna.  They approached him, trying not to show too much of the fear they felt.  As they stood in front of him, he gave them a warm friendly smile and said ‘hi.’

Robbie was glad to be with Martworth, they had gone through training side by side.  Martworth was one of the smallest fireflies and rather shy, but he was one of the friendliest and most determined to succeed in what he did.  Most of the others teased him, but Robbie liked him very much for he knew what it was like to be teased by others.  He was always being teased about his upturned nose, and the fact that he was smaller then most of the boys his age.

Their work trainer led them down a dark hallway that inclined upwards towards a light at the end.  He told them his name was Barra. He was the most experienced night worker. When they reached the light he motioned for them to go ahead.   They walked toward the lighted archway and found themselves in the land above. It was daylight and their eyes were not accustomed to such brightness. They squinted to see the land before them.

Barra took their hands and helped walk them over to the shade under the huge old oak tree where the rest of the squad was waiting.  Robbie and Martworth sat down with the other new cadets.  Attention focused on their trainers.  Barra was the leader of this squad and he addressed the group.

“We want to welcome all the new members to Meltor Squad.  Today we will start your orientation, you will get to know all members of Meltor.”  Barra motioned toward the squad and they nodded in acknowledgement to the new members. “You must get to know each member and work closely with them, your life and theirs can depend on this knowledge and cooperation.”

All the new members spent the day out in the sun hearing stories of bravery from the old members of the Meltor squad.  They learned each squad was assigned an area and they must learn to know that area completely.  Each squad was named after a legendary hero of the past. Meltor, they learned was one of the greatest heroes surviving the most attacks ever in the history of the firefly kingdom. The area Meltor Squad was assigned to was the most treacherous since the most dangerous Land-one lived there.

The day ended with a flying race between the new and old members and a huge banquet.  Robbie could not remember when he had enjoyed himself so much.  As night fell the new members were told to go home. Tonight they would not go out, but they were to rest for tomorrow night, which would be their first work assignment.

They all retreated to their dorm rooms. Martworth was now Robbie’s roommate and the two settled in for the evening.  Martworth told Robbie about his family. He had fifty siblings and they all had been very close as infants.

“Me and my brothers were all sent off to training as soon as we evolved into beetles and my sisters were sent to reproduction training.  I am especially proud of my sisters they are important breeders because our father was a hero. ”

His father had been a member of the Meltor Squad but was killed at work one night.  “I never really knew my father I was just a larva when he died, but I have heard many wonderful things about him. I do want to be brave like he was,” Martworth said as his eyes filled with tears.

Robbie envied the fact that Martworth had brothers and sisters, being an only child had been very lonely for him.  He also wondered about the dangerous Land-one who lived in his boy-life neighborhood. He probably knew this person and therefore knew the killer of Martworth’s father.  This made him sad and he did not want to think about it.

The two friends talked and laughed late into the night until kings’ guards came to tell them lights out.  It was difficult to fall asleep that night with the thoughts of their new assignment the following evening. Eventually the both were lost in their dreams. Martworth dreaming of being a famous hero like his father. Robbie struggled to sleep, unsure of his future, would he ever be a boy again or a firefly forever. Finally his dreams mellowed, dreaming he was at home with Nana and she was young again.

Next morning they met in the squad room and were given instructions for the evening run.  Most were assigned to light show duty as was the common job for young fireflies who where to young for dating and marriage. When they were mature enough they would be taught the mating signals, which at this point all the young squad members thought was a rather “icky” thing, but in reality an important job to keep the community alive.  Other members of the squad were assigned to food gathering for the elderly and injured members of the kingdom who could not fly and get out anymore.

Robbie and Martworth were both assigned to the same light show group so they had flashing classes all day.  The routine was easy and fun and everyone in the group was very excited to get out that evening and perform.  They were cautioned not all humans enjoyed the light show and to be very aware of the surroundings and the dangers of being caught.

At pre-dusk the squad assembled at the base of the oak tree.  The old members got their assignments and many snickered at the young new members who could hardly contain themselves with their excitement.  Attendance was taken and they all stood in groups according to their night’s assignment. Soon they flew off to Mayberry Street for an evening of work.

When they reached Mayberry Street each group followed a leader to an assigned area.  Robbie couldn’t believe it he was assigned to the area that encompassed his and Jason’s yard, he would probably see all his old friends.

Robbie was amazed.  Here he was a firefly flying around his own neighborhood.  High in the sky he surveyed the land below.  He never knew Mayberry Street was so huge. Everyone in his group started performing the practiced routine, and they looked magnificent.  About half way through the performance he saw the neighborhood boys rushing after him and Martworth.  He flew - whoosh - to the other side of the yard.  The boys, recovering from their stumble, raced over to where he hovered with his light blinking.  He then presented a sarcastic blink to them.  Again they tried to capture him and missed. He flew as fast as he could to the yard two doors down.  He sat proud on a leaf of a hazelnut tree.  ‘Not only am I the best firefly catcher on Mayberry Street, but the fastest and best firefly.’ He had no idea it could be so much fun being a bug.  ‘No one can catch Robbie the Great Firefly Extraordinaire.’

Robbie sat glowing in self-importance when in an instant darkness covered his world.  He felt moist warmth crushing him, an earthy aroma infiltrating his nostrils. Next thing he knew, he was plummeting through a clear wide tunnel.   He braced himself to hit hard.  But he came to stop with a thump on what seemed to be a soft cushion.  Robbie shook his head and waited a moment while his vision cleared.  It wasn’t a cushion.  On the floor piled one upon each other were fellow fireflies.  Some looked dazed while others were missing wings and lights, while all seemed to be gasping for breath.  Those not injured where in a frenzied mode trying to help those in need. 

He could see the clear tunnel he came down was a giant canning jar, the kind Nana used to can tomatoes, and the kind he had used to catch fireflies.  Through the glass walls of the jar the outside world was a distorted scene of colors.  Movement could be seen, but it was difficult to interpret what action was taking place in the outside world, and by whom.   A loud bang was heard up above and everyone in the glass prison let out a cry.  Robbie looked around at his fellow fireflies and saw terror on their faces as they ran in panic.  An older firefly with a calmer look about him bumped into Robbie, he evidently had experienced this horror before.

“What is happening?” Robbie cried out.  

“It’s those that captured us. They have closed off the prison. There are no air ducts in the roof,” the old firefly said has he turned to attend to a younger comrade who had no wings and was taking his last breathes of life. 

Robbie looked up and saw the cap to the jar.   There it was a solid surface with no means to let air in the jar.  This was the important reason he had received the ‘bughouse’ for a gift, it gave the fireflies plenty of air so they could breathe and not suffocate.  He never before understood the importance of this, but now he did.

Those with no injuries, or minor ones, helped separate the injured from the dead.  With tears in his eyes Robbie helped as best he could, it was not easy seeing friends he lived with and attended class with hurt or dying.  It was also getting difficult for him to breathe, but he moved along with the rest to help those who needed him.

The lid to the jar opened up again and a blast of air covered them as everyone who could, began breathing in as much air as possible.  Then suddenly the container fell to the ground with a huge jolt.  Robbie slowly stood up in a daze and saw the jar was lying on its side in the yard with the lid off.  Everyone who could move started toward the opening.  He looked down the long jar and out across the yard and saw the boys running off.  He did remember those nights with them catching fireflies. Little did he know how much harm and damage he caused.

“Help me get the injured out of the prison,” the old fly interrupted Robbie’s thoughts.  He quickly came back to the present remembering now he was a firefly now and the boys were the enemy.

All who could, helped move the injured out of the jar-prison and laid them on the cool grass.  Martworth flew back to the kingdom to get help to carry the injured back for medical care.  The old fly gave orders how to bandage broken limbs and stop bleeding, others went back into the jar and pulled out the dead and prepared them for burial as the Chaplin said a pray over the torn bodies.

Panic and discipline at the same time filled the air around the glass prison.  Most of the young fireflies cried in terror not knowing where to run.  The mature took charge comforting the scared and attending the injured.

Martworth returned with the medical group and soon all the injured were taken back to the hospital for emergency care.  The dead were left where they succumbed as the survivors said a silent pray themselves before returning home.

“So now you see what your kind has done to our citizens.  For what reason? Because we can do something they cannot?  We light up the sky at night with a beautiful show giving beauty to the world of humans, and what do we get, death and mutilation.” 

A huge teardrop ran down his cheek and sorrow showed in his eyes as he looked up at the King, “I never knew what I was doing. I never thought of the fireflies as living beings.  Nana tried to tell me. She gave me the bughouse for collecting, but still I never really knew.”  He then let out a loud howl and was unable to stop crying.

§

© Copyright 2013   Eileen A Partak

Captured Fire - Part 6

Image courtesy of suphakit73 /FreeDigitalPhotos.net

This is the Sixth

installment of the 

short story 

Captured Fire

This story is the story of a nine-year-old boy,

Robbie, who enters a magical world where he learns about the meaning of life,

friendship, and respect for others

***

Four lights exactly the firefly guards were at his door.  They took him down to the dining room where he had more nuts and seeds washing it down with his now favorite drink rose petal honeysuckle nectar.  After breakfast they marched him though a huge room then through a door at the other end. This room looked like an operating room.  It was bright with daisy petals on the walls that make it look like white paint.  There wasn’t much in the room except a chair and a small table in the middle, also covered with daisy petals.  A fairy came in who was dressed like a doctor in scrubs. He was busy in thought reading something on the clipboard he carried.

“Good morning Robbie, I am Dr. Heathcliff.  Don’t be scared this will not hurt, it will be fine, just relax,” the Doctor said as the nurse put him on the table.  Dr. Heathcliff then put a blue bell over Robbie’s nose and told him to breath in.  The scent of flowers was intoxicating and Robbie saw visions of fields with wildflowers and fairies fluttering all around.  He heard another voice, which echoed from far away, “count backwards from one hundred” but he was concentrating on looking at the beautiful scenery as colors swirled around in his mind like a kaleidoscope.

The next thing he knew he was waking up in a dark room. He was covered with a moss blanket and he was lying on a rock bed.  A flower fairy was standing next to his bed, she was dressed in white rose petals and was touching his head the way Mama did when he had a fever.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

Robbie blinked his eyes several times to adjust them to the light.  “I’m ok. I guess.  What happened, where am I?  My back feels funny and so do my legs.  Am I dying?”

The Nurse Fairy laughed, “no you are not dying you just had a transformation.  Don’t worry Dr. Heathcliff is very good. His medical skills are the best in the whole kingdom that is why he has been appointed physician to the King. If you are thirsty I can get you something to drink.”

“Yes I would like a little rose petal honeysuckle nectar if you could, please.”

She went around the corner of the room to get the nectar.  Robbie was feeling a little tired and sore, but basically fine.  He started to move his hands along his body and suddenly stopped.  ‘I don’t think I am alone in this bed,’ he thought.

The nurse came back with the drink.  “Let me help you get up.”

Robbie motioned for her to come close.  “Nurse,” he whispered, “I think there is a firefly under the covers lying on top of me.”

She laughed out loud, “No there’s not. That is the new you. You needed a transformation for your purpose.”  Robbie’s heart almost stopped.  What was she talking about?  He lifted up the blanket looked down at his legs and body in disbelief.  It was not a firefly lying on top of him; his boy body was no longer there in its place was a firefly body.

“Here let me help you up,” she said.  Carefully she helped him up into a sitting position and slowly pulled off the moss blanket.

Robbie did not know what to do. He blinked his eyes and looking down at the firefly that was now him.  He looked at the nurse with a look that asked for answers to many questions.  Just then the door burst open and there stood King Huron. 

“I see you are doing fine,” the King said as he sat down next to Robbie “ Dr. Heathcliff tells me you should be ready to start your training by the end of the day.”

“What happened to my body, why am I like this?” Robbie cried to the King. “What training are you talking about?”

“Did you not read the story last night?”

“Of course I read it, but what does that have to do with me being turned into a firefly?”

“You Robbie are the one, by your birth you are the special one to save our land.  You will be trained for your purpose. If you are successful you will once more obtain your human body, if not you will remain here a firefly forever.” King Huron stood and walked from the room, followed by his guards.

Robbie was very confused. Yes he read the story and knew of a special one, but he was not a fairy. Actually now he wasn’t even a boy, he was a firefly, or a boyfly. He didn’t have time to analyze this now.  Dr. Heathcliff and the nurse were at his bedside preparing him to leave.

“The transformation went very well. You are now ready to be released and attend your training classes,” the Doctor told him.

“What do I do with this body, how do I walk…” Robbie started with all the questions that filled his brain.

“I am not the one to answer your questions. You will learn all that in training class,” the Doctor said has he helped Robbie off the bed.  “You will be taken to the training room now.  Have a good time with your new body, which I must say I did do a magnificent job.”

  

Robbie found himself sitting; waiting in another little room.  At this point he was in a total daze, not sure if he was awake, alive, or what.  The door opened and in walked a huge firefly even bigger than King Huron.  “Come with me. I am Drayon. I will be training you.” He turned and walked out the door. Robbie quickly followed him down the dark corridor into a huge bright room.  The room was like the health club Dad went to in town.  Fireflies were in small groups all over the room with coaches, some doing floor exercises, others lifting weights, and still others suspended from strings being pulled along at high speeds and spinning in circles.

Drayon led him to a small group of very young fireflies in the corner.  Robbie towered over them and they looked up at him with an interested but guarded stare, they never before saw a firefly with a boy’s face.  “Okay this class is Light Messages 101. We will get started with the basics today. Everyone look at your bulb.”

All the young fireflies lifted their bulbs high and turned around to look at them.  Robbie was not sure what to do, but thought hard about lifting the bulb, and it moved up.  Still in shock he turned his head, and there it was, a big light at the end of his back.  He figured this had to be a dream, a real feeling dream, but a dream nonetheless.   He decided he might as well make it a fun one and not a nightmare. He joined the rest of the fireflies and started studying.

Each day Robbie woke early, ate his breakfast and was off to his classes. He was beginning to like this school.  He learned how to communicate with his bulb, how the different flashes meant different things.  Flying class was his favorite.  In the first class they were all tied up with spider webs suspended from the ceiling and just hung and spun around.  At later classes a big spider would run around pulling them up and down and spinning as they started to move their wings. 

At the final class, as they were moving through the air, Drayon nodded to the spider and he cut the strings.  This was a surprise to all the young firefly cadets as they tumbled downward to the ground.   Robbie started to panic as he suddenly plummeted in a downward spiral.  Then as if by instinct he started to move his wings.  At first nothing happened so he worked them harder, the harder he moved them the louder the sound and he could feel a small breeze being generated by them.  As his little firefly body neared the ground he suddenly swooshed up in a burst.  The next thing he knew he was flying around the room. Zooming up and down. Spinning around and upside down.  He was amazed, he was flying, and he was a firefly!

Robbie landed along side other successful fliers. Those who were unsuccessful at flying were attended to and taken from the room.  Most of the unsuccessful were crying, not because they were physically hurt, but because they knew they did not pass and would have to retake the class until they could pass it and fly.

“Congratulations on mastering the skill of flying,” Drayon addressed them with a proud sound to his voice.  “You are now ready to move on to receive your certificate of accomplishment and then your orders.” 

The ceremony was a huge event in firefly land.  Robbie was feeling a little down since he had no family in this strange world to see his accomplishment.  His name was called, he walked across the stage to receive his certificate, and his wing pin, which was formed from oak leaves in the shape of firefly wings. As he shook hands with Drayon a loud roar burst forth from the audience.  Robbie looked out in the crowd and saw Rosella, Tytra, Doctor Heathcliff, his nurse and all the flower fairies he had met when he first arrived, standing up cheering for him.  Along with them were fireflies he had met during his training, kings’ guards, and to his surprise King Huron himself.  He walked across the stage with tear filled eyes feeling so happy that these new friends felt so warmly about him.  He took his award from Drayon and turned to everyone, holding his certificate high above his head smiling at all his new friends.

§

© Copyright 2013   Eileen A Partak

Captured Fire - Part 3

Image courtesy of suphakit73 /FreeDigitalPhotos.net

This is the Third 
installment of the 
short story 
Captured Fire

This story is the story of a nine-year-old boy,
Robbie, who enters a magical world where he learns about the meaning of life,

friendship, and respect for others.

***

Robbie had always enjoyed catching fireflies with the other neighborhood boys.  All the boys met in Jason’s backyard, each boy with a canning jar ready for the hunt.

“Ok guys,” Jason yelled with authority, after all it was his yard so he was the boss of this group.  “Everyone get as many and as quickly as you can.  Then we will have fun with them.  Captured fire is what we want.”  The boys scattered around the neighborhood chasing after the blinking fireflies, each wanting to get many quickly so they could play with them.

Thirty minutes later the boys met, each with jars glowing like lanterns.  Robbie was the first to finish and with the most fireflies in his jar.  All the boys agreed that he was the quickest and the best on Mayberry Street, they gave him the title ‘terrorizing menace.’

“Watch this,” Jason yelled.  He reached into the jar taking out fireflies and pulling off their lights.  After he had a handful of the glowing bulbs he started to smear them on his face and arms looking like a warrior decorated with war paint ready for attack.  Robbie was taken back by the sight of this but watched as the other boys started decorating themselves with the glowing paint.  He then joined in the fun.

This ritual was repeated every night with hoops and hollers from the group as they ripped bulbs and wings off the fireflies.  They left the mangled, along with the untouched ones in the airless jars to die, emptying out the lifeless dry bodies the next night.

One evening Nana Peters came into the potting shed to get her garden cart right at the moment Robbie was pouring out the dead fireflies on the ground.

“Robert William Johnson! What in the world are you doing?” she screamed at him.

Startled, Robbie dropped the jar.  “Cleaning out the old bugs,” he answered in a timid voice as he looked at the pile of dried carcasses on the ground.

This is when Nana Peters explained to him how precious life was and the rules to catching fireflies.  “Fireflies love playing the game with you, but always put them in a container with air, and always set them free. Remember Robbie everyone has a purpose.”  Robbie listened to her; she spoke with such sureness in her voice he started to feel guilty about capturing these creatures and leaving them to die.  So when his birthday came Nana gave him the ‘bughouse.’

“So are you ready for a tour?” Rosella asked, her voice snapping him back to the present.  “ I will show you how we take care of the flowers from down here.  Then we will move you on to your purpose.”

Robbie was ready to move along, but wondered what she meant by his “purpose.”  He stood up to follow her hoping whoever it was that noticed actions didn’t know of his mutilation of the fireflies.

As they walked from the room a large blue and black dragonfly met them at the door.  Rosella hopped on its back and motioned for Robbie to do the same.  Once settled securely on the dragonfly it took off down the narrow hall out into the large room. 

They entered a buzzing microcosm.  The room was musty with dim lighting and a misty haze billowing throughout.  Fairies and insects flew around everywhere concentrating on their individual jobs; a different type of fairy performed each.  The dragonfly swiftly flew past Tytra; the first one Robbie met upon entering this land.  She was busy supervising her group of workers, all of them with twig combs tending to the long silky roots.  These were the Groomer Fairies he learned, their job was to keep the long roots of the flowers smooth and tangle free.  Other fairies fed the roots by attaching little leaf buckets containing a mixture of soil, mosses and water to the root ends. These were the Root Feeder Fairies their job was to make sure the feeding buckets were always full so the flowers had enough nutrition to thrive.

Nanny Fairies tended the new seeds keeping them warm and nourished in order to sprout.  This was a constant 24-hour a day job for if they were not tended to the energy would fizzle and the seeds would not sprout.  Once sprouted the Coach Fairies encouraged them to be strong, to push forward using their full potential to emerge above ground and grow toward the sun for more energy. 

Not every seed was strong enough or had the drive to push and become a beautiful flower.   The Coach Fairies could only encourage with love and words, the rest was up to the seed or sprout to do it on their own.  Most had the energy or the desire to move forward, others through no fault of their own could not make it.  The Doctor and Nurse Fairies attended to the weak or damaged sprouts.  Blankets covered spindly or shriveled roots to keep them warm and comfortable.  No one was to blame for any of this, “What is to be – is to be” the fairies said as they continued on with their lives.

The dragonfly soared into another large brightly lit room filled with a delightful perfumed air.  Robbie saw a ray of light coming from a shaft above that illuminated the entire room.  Along one wall were chutes coming from above that all types of flowers traveled down making huge piles on the floor.  Every type of flower petal imaginable lay on the floor.   Rose, African violet, bleeding hearts, bluebell, fuchsia, hollyhock, lilac, morning glory, Queen Anne’s lace, sweet William.  Many Robbie had never seen before and didn’t know what they were called.

“This is the place where the petals of the flowers are received and sorted.  Many are used for clothing, food and gadgets for daily living”, Rosella explained.   They continue to fly along through several other rooms watching various fairies working with plants.  Finally they landed and four tall Acorn Fairies were waiting for him as he hopped off the dragonfly.  He was told to sit in the middle of an extra large oak leaf as the fairies each took a corner and flew up and away, as he wondered what was next.

§

© Copyright 2013   Eileen A Partak

Captured Fire - Part 2

Image courtesy of suphakit73 /FreeDigitalPhotos.net

This is the second installment
of the short story 
Captured Fire

This is the story of a nine-year-old boy,
Robbie, who enters a
magical world where he learns about the meaning of life, friendship, and respect for others

***

The next evening Robbie clutched the rosebud in his hand and ran over to the spot in the garden where he had released the fairy.   He closed his eyes tight and whispered the magic words the fairy told him – believe in the promise - three times as the fairy instructed.  He felt a strong suction; a heavy downward pull as the ground collapsed beneath his feet.  In a split second he was carried down a dark narrow shaft and then stopped abruptly and thrown onto a soft spongy surface.  He stayed still for a moment on the soft ground feeling dazed from the fall.  It was dark and the air had a musty aroma.  He felt something gently tickle his face.  As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he saw something stringy hanging over him.  Looking closer he could see it was a mass of twisted roots fine as strands of hair.  He slowly stood up feeling a little dizzy and started to brush dirt from himself.  “Oh my!” he gasped, “my clothes.”  There he stood, the only thing covering his body was dirt on his arms and legs, he was completely naked.

“Hello there”, a squeaky voice greeted him from beyond the tangle root mass.  He squinted his eyes and focused his gaze toward the sound of the voice.  Fluttering before him, holding what looked like a comb made of twigs, was a fairy.  This one looked different from the one he caught the night before.  She had long yellow hair, making up her dress were long orange flower petals speckled with black, similar to a tiger lily; bright green tights covered her long legs.  From the top of her head antenna protruded like the stamen of a flower and little puffy soft orbs floated down from the ends, like pollen, as she spoke.

“You must be the Land-one who captured Rosella, we heard you might pay us a visit.” the fairy was busy combing the mass of roots smooth as she talked.

Being aware of his nakedness Robbie tried to hide behind some thick tangled twigs suspended from above.  “I’m Robbie, if Rosella is the fairy I thought was a firefly then yes that’s me.”

“Welcome Robbie, I am Tytra the manager of root manicuring.  Someone will be here to make you comfortable and show you around”.

“But I’m naked.” he whispered.

“Oh that is alright, they say every Land-one is when they arrive here.  You shrunk you know.  Once you become tiny your coverings no longer fit.”

Robbie looked at her with a mystified gaze and extended his arms and looked at his hand and down at his feet.   He was tiny! How did this happen. “I am no longer a boy, I must be a fairy,” he exclaimed in horror as he reached to his back searching for wings.

Tytra giggled as she watched, “You do look somewhat like a fairy, are you sure you are not one of us?  Upturned noses and small points of the ears are a fairy quality.”  Robbie slowly touched the tip of his nose and let his fingers move to his ears.  “No, they are like Nana’s I’ve been told.”  Tytra nodded with a sly smile then made a loud clicking sound summoning two more Tiger Lily Fairies.  “Take the Land-one to the salon and inform Rosella he is here.”  The fairies obediently took hold of his arms, lifted him up and flew off through the silky root curtains, emerging into a magical underground world.   Robbie felt for sure he was in a dream.

They entered a room with rows dug into the earth walls forming shelves.  Neatly on each shelf were leaves and petals all stacked together by colors, starting on the bottom with the lighter shades and progressing up to the darker shade of that same color.  Several piles of stones covered with moss were in the middle of the room, reminiscent of small tables.  A fairy with short red curly hair and a dress made of lily of the valley bells greeted them with a cheery smile.

“Here’s the Land-one for you to dress,” one of the Tiger Lily Fairies said as they dropped Robbie on top of a shiny silver stone and flew out of the room with a Swoosh!

Without a word the Lily of the Valley Fairy flew over to Robbie and dressed him in a shirt and short pants made from small deep green leaves with serrated edges and placed the cap of an acorn on top his short sandy hair.  The dark colors made the blue of his eyes glow bright.   When finished she flew over and pulled a long snake like vine that hung in the corner of the room.  Lily of the Valley bells rang with a choir of soft tinkles and two more fairies immediately entered the room.  They were dressed as Robbie was only with brown mesh wings and a brown belt around their waists made from dried woven grass, little twigs hung like batons from the belts. 

Again he was escorted through the big room, down a narrow winding tunnel far from the bustling activity in the large room and into a small hidden area.  The tantalizing aroma of roses intoxicated Robbie’s nostrils as he was dropped off in this room. The walls were covered from floor to ceiling with over lapping rose petals of various shades of pinks, and reds.  The ceiling and floor were covered with white and yellow petals.  Small rose blooms were placed in the room for chairs and on either side of the chairs small stones covered in moss to serve as tables.  In the far corner was a bed of slate covered with moss woven together with rose petals.  Rosebuds were placed at the head of the bed for pillows.   

Robbie heard a trickle and saw in the corner a clear stream flowing down over silver stones forming a pond.  Pieces of rose petals gently floated and twirled in the rippling water that formed fluffy foam and floated like clouds on the surface of the pond.  This was the residence of Rosella the Queen of the Flower Garden Fairies.

Robbie stood looking around the little room in awe still thinking he must be in a dream when he heard a little humming sound behind him.   He turned around and there was Rosella behind him accompanied by four Rose Fairies. She settled down on one of the rose bloom chairs and was quickly attended to by one of the fairies. 

“Welcome Robbie the Land-one.  We are so happy that you decided to visit us.”  She motioned for him to sit down and then snapped her fingers twice, nodded and the attendants flew away. Robbie sat down a little uneasy on the flower chair as the cool petals engulfed his small body.  He was not used to the using flowers as furniture.

“We do not often have visitors from the upper land.  Upper land dwellers must prove they are worthy to enter the flower fairyland.  But you have proved yourself by showing your kindness for others and setting me free,” she said with a gracious smile and nodding her head towards Robbie.

Just then one of the attendants came back carrying a large leaf, using it like a tray.   On the tray were little bell shaped flowers with the stems twisted around the sides for handles making the flowers look like teacups.  She offered one to Robbie.  He hesitated then he took one.  With curious examination he sniffed the light pink liquid in the cup cautiously and slowly touched the rosy drink to his lips.  It was actually good. 

“One of my favorite drinks,” Rosella said as she took a sip and leaned back in her chair, “the morning dew off a rose petal mixed with honeysuckle nectar.”

“As I was saying,” Rosella put down the teacup and looking seriously into Robbie’s eyes, “you are one of the privileged.  Very few ever enter the underground flower land.  You shall be the ambassador between our two worlds spreading the word to your people that life exists everywhere.”

Robbie gulped down the rosy drink.  He started to tremble as he set the teacup down on the table.  “Ambassador?  Me, how could I tell anyone something important, I am only nine-years old.”?

Rosella laughed, leaning forward she touched Robbie’s arm and whispered, “All actions are noticed by someone, good, bad, all actions are noticed.”  Then she sat back with a sly grin and picked up her drink.

Robbie gulped.   Rosella mentioned his kindness by the fact that he released her, but he knew he was not always so kind. He thought back to last summer.   

§

© copyright 2013   Eileen A Partak