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UNHOLY GROUND, A HORROR SHORT STORY, CHAPTER IX
UNHOLY GROUND
THE BARN
Moonlight illuminated the night. A full moon hovered over the rolling Pennsylvania hills as Chris and Junior snuck out of their houses to carry out Chris’ artistic callings. As Chris made his way down the road, he could see Junior up ahead. Finding the barn by daylight was difficult enough, at night, if Chris was alone, it would be impossible.
“How’s it going, Junior? Ready to do a little painting?”
“I’m telling you, Chris, this is not a good idea.”
Junior could see the determination in his friend’s eyes. Armed with five cans of spray paint and flashlights, they made their way down the dirt road toward the barn.
Initially, the boys let the moonlight guide them. Crickets filled the night with their song, joined by the occasional frog. When they were farther along, they illuminated the forest to their right with their flashlights. Chris knew it would be difficult to find where the path branched off the road. Junior told him, “There are two tall maple trees, one on either side of the path. Keep a lookout for those trees.”
The walk seemed longer than the last time to Chris. Maybe it was the night or maybe it was doing something that Junior and old-man Alexander warned him against.
Junior found the two maples. Now their flashlights have become a necessity. The dense forest blocked the moonlight just as it did the sun. The nighttime forest had an intensified air of mystery, more sinister than during the day. The soft rustlings on either side of the path only served to increase the sense of dread. More than once, Chris considered turning back. But he could not, would not give in to the seeds of fear planted by the locals. As he walked next to Junior, he sensed a tension in the forest, something he had not felt during his daytime visit. He also knew Junior was terrified. At one point his friend was actually whimpering. Then the boys thought they heard distant voices.
“You hear that, Chris? Let’s turn back.”
Chris shoved him in the back. “Keep going,” he said.
Up ahead, Chris saw a moonlit area through the trees. He knew he was approaching the clearing and the barn. The boys stepped out of the forest.
Chris walked up to the barn. Junior hung behind shaking with fear. From his backpack, Chris produced cans of spray paint and began to deface one side of the wooden structure. He laughed as he painted his name in outlandish letters and added a multitude of designs. The painting went on until the cans ran dry.
He turned to Junior. “Now that is what I call art.”
Junior’s response was, “Let’s get the hell out of here!”
* * *
For the next week all Chris could think about was how great it felt to spread his graffiti over the white walls of the barn. With the image of the three remaining virgin walls in his mind, he decided to purchase more paint and complete the project. He approached Junior and asked, “What do you say we decorate the barn a little more? I’ll let you share bragging rights when we go back to school. I’ll meet you tonight.” Chris turned, not giving Junior a chance to reply.
The boys met on the road. This time the moon was only a sliver, and they had to use their flashlights much earlier.
“This will be awesome,” Chris told Junior. He could see his friend shaking with fear while he experienced an adrenaline rush.
The boys made it to the clearing and the barn. Junior elected to remain amongst the trees while Chris approached the barn. “Shit, what the hell?” Chris said. He looked in disbelief. There wasn’t a sign of the painting he had done. The wall of the barn glowed a pristine white.
Then he heard voices coming from within. He could see blood-red light through the joints in the wall. He wanted to confront whoever spoiled his artwork. Something was taking place in the lower confines of the building. Suddenly, the place just didn’t feel right. Chris’ courage dissolved in a need for flight. That’s when his eye caught a figure standing before him where none had been a moment ago.
It was a boy dressed in an odd costume – old fashioned. Even more peculiar was that the boy glowed from within.
“My name is Thomas Young. My family and I have been waiting for a visitor, someone to help us protect this ground”
Junior shouted, “Chris, run!” But Chris was frozen to the spot.
The boy continued, “I welcome you to the land of the Ancients. You have angered them, and it is with them that you will dwell forever.”
The glowing youth stepped closer. Soon the boys stood face to face. As Chris stood stark still, the boy took another step and went through Chris. He suddenly felt cold; falling to the ground he underwent the conversion to a sentry of the Ancients.
“You are one of us now. You will dwell in this barn and guard the land. To leave this clearing is to enter oblivion.” Thomas turned and walked through the barn wall.
Chris stood alone in the moonlight, unable to comprehend what had happened. He looked toward the welcoming forest, and in an instant, felt the loss of his life and his future, feared the existence that awaited him.
Junior ran back into the forest, never to enter the territory of the Ancients again.
* * *
Junior never told anyone about the incident at the barn, even when the police questioned him about his friend’s disappearance. Never said a word until one day his grandson asked, “Gramps, do you know about the haunted barn?
THE END
UNHOLY GROUND, A HORROR SHORT STORY, CHAPTER VII
UNHOLY GROUND
“Bullshit,” Chris screamed when his parents told him of their plan to move to the country. “Philadelphia is my home. I don’t want to live with a bunch of hayseeds that get their kicks watching corn grow or whatever the hell they grow out there.”
Chris was tall and lean with a shock of red hair and a face full of freckles. He resembled his dad and had his dad’s forward manner. Bob was irritated at how much his son was like him, especially in ways he wanted to change in himself.
“Now listen here,” Bob said. “The decision is made, so you might as well accept it. And watch your language. The attitude you’ve taken lately is one of the reasons we made this decision.
“And furthermore, I’d rather see you keep company with hayseeds than those hoodlums you call your friends. I did not enjoy picking you up at the police station after you and your friends were caught spraying graffiti on that old warehouse.”
Chris said sarcastically, “We were just being artistic.”
“Well son, your form of art is considered vandalism. There are no two ways about it. We’re moving to Pinebrook to make a new start.”
Chris grumbled up to, during and after the move was completed. His attitude improved when he met Junior Dawson. Junior had a talent for getting into trouble and nothing scared him. Well, almost nothing.
* * *
In his fifteen years, Junior Dawson had never strayed far from Pinebrook. For vacations, his family would seek out campgrounds in nearby Pennsylvania state parks. He seldom visited a big city. When Chris moved to Pinebrook, he brought Junior a window to a world he barely knew.
Junior liked Chris’ swagger, his whole attitude. No one in Pinebrook had an attitude, that is if you didn’t count old-man Alexander, who was perpetually pissed off. In Pinebrook there was no reason to have an attitude. People just lived their lives and accepted what came their way.
The two boys were neighbors, but with the size of the farms, their houses were not within sight of one another. Although they were in different classes at school, they became fast friends. One lazy Saturday afternoon, Chris asked Junior, “What do you do for kicks around this place?”
“Oh, we hike and fish. And when it gets warm, we swim in the lake.”
“Shit, John-Boy, I’m talking fun, not Boy Scout camp.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Junior replied. “There’s not much to do around here.”
“No shit,” answered Chris.
“Listen, when I lived in the city, me and some of my pals used to get cans of spray paint and decorate the walls of some vacant and not so vacant buildings. Then you could walk by anytime you wanted and look at your artwork.”
Junior said, “I know what graffiti is but what are you going to paint around her’, the trees? All the farms are busy places. You can’t even sneak up on them at night for all the dogs. There aren’t any vacant buildings except… ‘
“Except what?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit! Except what?”
“Well, there’s this old barn. Sits all by itself in the middle of the woods about a mile or so from here. People around here don’t talk about it much. It’s a strange place. I’ve been to it once and don’t want to go back there again.”
“Man, it sounds perfect. What could be so strange about an old barn in the middle of nowhere? I bet it’s just screaming for a paint job.”
“No, it’s not, Chris. Believe me, it’s not. No one knows how old the barn is, but it looks like it was built yesterday. And although no one tends to it, the forest just grows up to about twenty feet from the barn and stops.”
“Oh, that sounds scary,” Chris said with all the sarcasm he could muster.
Junior said, “I’ve been there once, with a couple of friends during the day. The place gave me the creeps; a strange feeling like someone was watching me. Like someone was about to yell at me. We all high-tailed it outa there. We all felt the same thing and it didn’t feel good.”
“Now you’re really getting me scared, Junior. There’s an old, abandoned barn in the middle of the woods that everyone around here is afraid to visit. Shit, it sounds perfect. We can paint to our heart’s content, and no one will ever disturb our work. Maybe we could make it into a kind of clubhouse, a kind of drinking and smoking clubhouse.
“I don’t think it’s such a good idea, Chris,” Junior said.
“I do. Let’s go.”
After more arguing, Junior finally gave in. The boys headed down the dirt road that separated their properties. Fields of wheat and corn bordered the road, with an occasional stand of trees. The air was full of the smell of a country afternoon and insects, which the boys would swat away. Once past their farms, Junior slowed and began looking for a trail that would lead off to the right. He finally found what he was looking for.
“Here’s the trail to the barn.”
“You call that a trail.”
“I told you no one comes out here. We shouldn’t be here either.”
“Don’t pussy-out on me now, Junior. Take me to your scary barn.”
Following the path was not easy.
“I can’t believe how dense this forest is.” said Chris.
“You want to turn back?”
Chris shoved Junior in the back and said, “Keep going.”
They walked for half an hour, crossing streams and glancing up at the giant canopy of trees blocking the sky. If anything, the trees became denser as they walked making the going extremely difficult.
“Oh, Junior, this place is so scary even the bugs won’t come here,” Chris said.
This only added to Junior’s fears because the bugs really were gone.
Suddenly, up ahead there appeared a clearing. In the middle of the clearing stood a barn, painted white. The doors and shutters surrounding the window of the loft were painted black and closed.
“You are sure this barn is old, Junior? It looks brand new.”
“I told you this was a strange place. And I’m sure it’s old. My grandpa said his grandpa told him about it.”
Chris immediately observed how clear the area was around the building, and asked, “Who keeps the area around the barn free of trees?”
“No one,” answered Junior. “I told you. It just stays clear on its own.”
The boys stood at the edge of the trees.
“Can you feel it, Chris? Like we’re being watched. Like we’re not alone.”
Looking off, Chris pointed to a figure emerging from behind the barn and said, “We’re not alone.”
UNHOLY GROUND, A HORROR SHORT STORY, CHAPTER V
UNHOLY GROUND
John Taylor’s son, Simon, age eight, heard his father tell his mother of the mysterious disappearance of the Young family. “They are simply gone. They left behind everything. All their tools, clothes – everything is still in the barn.”
Simon had spent some time in the Young’s barn playing with Jake. He remembered a ball that Jake had. I wonder if that ball is still there, Simon thought. His excitement over finding the ball overshadowed any bad feelings he had for the disappearance of his friend. He decided that that night he would sneak out of his room and visit the barn.
It was two in the morning when Simon climbed through his window and headed for the Young homestead. The full moon made finding his way easy. As he came within sight of the barn Simon realized that his father had been mistaken. There, before the barn, stood Zeke Young. Zeke studied his property, and then suddenly focused on the spot where Simon stood. Simon noticed that Zeke appeared to glow, brighter than the moonlit countryside. Then Zeke jumped into the air and began to fly directly to Simon. The boy screamed and ran for all he was worth, stumbling over bramble and bushes, daring not to look back. After running a good distance, he finally found the courage to look in the direction of the barn. There, hovering above the building was the glowing specter. Simon never set foot on that property again.
Chris Walters
Zeke Young’s barn stood as a sentinel in the dense forest for two hundred years, pristine, untouched by time or the elements. Over the years there had been disappearances of those who thought the haunted barn a legend and chose to investigate. It had been one hundred years since the demons occupying the unholy ground claimed their last victim. The stories of the property became myths, part of the legend of the area, one that none of the locals dared to test.
Development had yet to march through these rolling hills of Pennsylvania, leaving the countryside spotted with farms and stands of virgin forest. The surrounding communities shared the legend of the barn from generation to generation. There was talk of mysterious light and phantoms flying through the sky. Each generation produced boys seeking to test the legend and dare each other to visit the barn. Those that made the pilgrimage experienced a strange presence as they approached the structure. And no matter how brave and daring they felt before they reached the site, no one would walk up to the barn, and they never ventured there after dark. The barn was left alone for years, that is, until Chris Walters moved into a neighboring farm community with his family.
UNHOLY GROUND, A HORROR SHORT STORY, CHAPTER I
This story was accepted for publication by Books To Go Now in 2011
UNHOLY GROUND
Zeke Young
Shaking his head, John Taylor said to newcomer Zeke Young, “I wouldn’t build on this land if I was you.”
Zeke was a lean man, his face weathered from years of working someone else’s property. Now he would have a farm of his own. The year was 1754, early spring, and the men were standing deep in the western Pennsylvania woods. Zeke was not a man to be easily dissuaded. He fixed John Taylor with a hard stare, and asked, “Why would you say that?”
“Heard tell of strange things happening here on this land at night. People have seen a kind of glow in the trees, a moving glow. Them that seen the glow heard ungodly sounds too. Like a kind of moaning. People say this place is damned.
“Even the savages that live in these parts avoid this ground. They say it’s cursed, always has been. They speak of the Ancients, a tribe of demons that live here underground. These devils come to the surface to take those that violate their land. The Indians avoid this area like the plague. I would steer clear of it too if I was you.”
Zeke Young responded, “Sounds like just the place I’m looking for. Snooping neighbors and Indian raiding parties will pass me by. I recon, in the wilderness, a man needs help to survive, but I like my privacy. I’ll offer help when asked, but I’ll not pass the time of day in idle talk. Indians, I can do without.”
John Taylor warned again, “Don’t take it so lightly, Zeke. I tell you the Indians say there are devils living in this here ground. They say that sometimes if you put your ear to the ground, you can hear the devil’s moan. I wouldn’t settle my family in this place.”
“You might not,” Zeke said, “but I sure as hell will.”
BALANCE, A STORY OF HORROR, CHAPTER III
BALANCE, A STORY OF HORROR, CHAPTER III
It was weeks before Nijo had time to search out the Mejocuthru master. The workload was unusually heavy, and her kids were sick so when she wasn’t caring for her patients she was nursing her children.
One sunny cold Saturday afternoon she asked Jim to watch the girls. “I’ve got some errands to run. Would you mind staying home with the kids?”
Jim looked up from the college football game he was watching and said, “No problem. On your way home, why don’t you pick up a pizza for dinner?” He returned to the game as his wife closed the front door.
She made her way to the address Robbie supplied. It was in the Chinese section of town. She consulted a city map and had no trouble locating the home of the Mejocuthru master. She pulled up in front of the building and was momentarily confused, “This can’t be the right address,” she said to herself. The building housed a Chinese restaurant. In the window of the grimy building was a row of cured ducks hung by their necks, suspended over oriental fruit and vegetables. Above were apartments, but the doorway leading upstairs displayed a different number.
Nijo went into the restaurant and was immediately approached by a waiter who asked in a heavy accent, “Can I seat you?” The room smelled of exotic sauces and spices. Clouds had darkened the afternoon sky, and the room appeared not to absorb what little light that filtered through the dirty front window. The few customers present were seated in the darkness muttering in Asian dialects.
Nijo said, “I was given this address by a friend. I’ve come to see the Mejocuthru master.”
The waiter’s expression changed from neutral to one of malice. “That is not possible,” he said. “Who sent you here?”
She gave him Robbie’s name. A brief look of recognition passed over his face.
“Sit here,” he growled, pointing to the area reserved for take-out customers and disappeared through a beaded curtain leading to the kitchen. Sometime later he reemerged, perspiring heavily. He had the same countenance of anger, but now he also bore a hint of uncertainty.
In a gruff voice, he said, “Follow me.”
The waiter led Nijo through the beaded curtain and into the kitchen where a host of Chinese cooks shouted to one another in their sing-song language. Here the exotic smell of the food was overpowering. Hurriedly, Nijo was shown to the rear of the room to a flight of stairs leading to the basement. The steps leading into the darkness were wooden and well-worn. In the faint light from an occasional bare bulb, Nijo found herself walking through a maze of tiny storerooms containing shelves of cans displaying Asian characters and jar upon jar of spices. One room was reserved for nothing but tea; another for huge bags of rice. He led Nijo to the darkest recesses of the cellar and a rust-stained metal door. He unlocked a heavy bolt and motioned Nijo inside. Immediately after she entered, the door was locked behind her. Her nostrils were attacked by the heavy smell of incense. Behind a single wavering candle flame appeared to be a pile of rags. Then the rags began to move, becoming a solitary figure surrounded by cushions. Even after her eyes had adjusted, Nijo could only make out a shadowy figure.
In perfect English, without the hint of an accent, the specter motioned to the pile of cushions and said, “Come here, child, and sit.”
The voice was that of a woman and was gentle but with an undertone of despair. Now seated, Nijo could begin to discern the woman’s features. Her face was a mass of wrinkles with deep-set slanted eyes, a flat nose and small mouth.
“My name is Maggie Wu,” said the woman. “I have been a prisoner in this room for many years. It is a painful, lonely existence, one I wish I could end, but I am powerless to do so.”
Nijo asked, “Why are you held prisoner? Are these people holding you hostage?”
The old woman answered, “I do not know why I am here. They say I did terrible things, but I don’t recall. I have had visitors, but they were either curious or vengeful. This has been my existence for more years than I can remember. “What brings you here, my child?”
Nijo answered, “A friend of mine and I have been practicing Reiki to help our patients. We are hospice nurses and have had some success in relieving some of their pain, but nothing consistent. I asked my friend, Robbie, if there was some stronger discipline we could use with more power and more certainty. Reluctantly, she told me about Mejocuthru and how to find you. She said there were risks but I would risk anything to help my patients.”
“Would you, my dear? I recall your friend. You must have been very persuasive, for not only did I deter her from using Mejocuthru but made her swear not to tell anyone of my existence.”
Nijo said, “I was rather relentless in my questioning. Do not be mad at Robbie. Please agree to teach me.”
The old woman reached out her gnarled hands to Nijo. “Give me your hands,” she ordered.
Nijo extended her hands and felt a strange tingle when they were held by the woman.
The woman said, “You have a deep desire to heal. I have never experienced this power in another. Perhaps you could control the power of Mejocuthru. I will tell you my history; then we will see.
“I was a healer taught by healers from the old country. They said I had many natural abilities and revealed to me powers and cures unknown in this country. I did much good for the Chinese community, but I felt I wasn’t doing enough, that there was a further step I could take.”
“I have the same feelings,” said Nijo, “that there is something beyond the Reiki I use.”
The old woman shook her head in disgust. “Reiki is for amateurs, a weak discipline practiced by weak people. Mejocuthru is where the real power lies. With Mejocuthru you can perform miracles. The old masters warned me of dangers, of doing well but of also doing evil. But I accepted the power. I raised the dead. It was only then I realized the power I possessed.
“The old masters said I would perform unspeakable acts if I used this knowledge. After I began to cure using Mejocuthru, the only problem I encountered was the loss of memory after healing. Soon after I raised a young woman from death I was imprisoned and have been here ever since. I long to be free. No one will explain why I am here, but I know I did some good and that is what is important. Those thoughts are what keep me alive.”
Nijo said, “I do not understand how such a great healing tool can do evil. I want to learn. I want to possess this power.”
The old woman smiled and said, “I will teach you. There is a chant you must learn. One that will release the powers of Mejocuthru into the people you touch to heal the disease that sickens them.
“Come, child. Lean forward and I will whisper the chant so that you may heal the sick.”
Nijo leaned close to the ancient healer. The old woman spoke the chant into Nijo’s ear. When the lesson was finished, the old woman told Nijo, “You are now a Mejocuthru healer. Go and help the sick; the power is yours.”
As soon as she said these words, the old woman’s images appeared to waive; then slowly fade. Before Nijo’s disbelieving eyes, there appeared a boiling black cloud where the woman had been. Rather than dissipating, the cloud began to fall into itself. It became constantly smaller until all that remained was a solitary black dot hovering above the candle. Then it was gone.
Nijo shuddered and rose from the cushions. She had no idea what she had just witnessed, however, she felt a new sense of power that was pleasurable, that needed to be shared. She pounded on the door to be released. The door was opened by the waiter who had led her to the room. Nijo said, “I am finished here,” and walked past the man. After a minute or so, his eyes began to adjust to the darkened room. The chamber was empty. He searched the small room in disbelief and horror.
BALANCE, A STORY OF HORROR, CHAPTER II
BALANCE, A STORY OF HORROR, CHAPTER II
Nijo had been content with her life. Her husband, Jim, was a hard-working engineer and provided a good life for her and their two daughters, Kim, age two, and Heather, age four. She was a nurse, and didn’t need to work, but she loved her profession and could not imagine life without nursing. When caring for the sick, she felt complete. To serve the patients most in need of her skills, she chose hospice nursing, and with that decision she would do a great deal of good but also seal her fate.
The patients she encountered had the most urgent care requirements. They required comfort along the road toward their death. And Nijo provided help along that road with care and compassion. But, deep inside she felt she was not doing enough to ease the suffering of the dying.
It was shortly after this feeling of inadequacy began that she met Robbie. Robbie, Roberta, was a hospice nurse working at the same agency. She was older than Nijo, blond, tall and had a striking presence of authority whenever she entered the room of a patient. Extremely competent in her discipline, she used all the skills at her command to ease the fears and pain of the dying. It was Robbie’s knowledge of a little recognized discipline that would determine Nijo’s future.
Robbie and Nijo became close friends. One day Nijo asked, “There are times I feel I could do more for my patients. Robbie, your patients seem to possess an inner peace different from those I work with. What do you do for them that I don’t?”
Robbie replied, “I’ve learned to use a healing method called Reiki. When you use this discipline, power comes through your hands as you work with the patient to help heal and provide a feeling of peace. For some patients it works, for some it doesn’t, but in our profession, you do what you must to ease pain and suffering.”
Nijo took some Reiki classes with Robbie and began to see the benefits of this mystical approach to helping the dying. However, the success rate was less than she had hoped for, that’s when she asked Robbie, “Is there anything more I can do? Is there another step beyond Reiki?”
Robbie hesitated, and then answered, “There is a force beyond Reiki, but it is dangerous. There are consequences to the practitioner if it is used. You might say, when you use this power, there are debts to be paid. I’ve never had the nerve to pursue it.”
Nijo responded, “If we can comfort the dying, no debt is too much. Will you tell me what this method is called?”
“It is called Mejocuthru. No one knows its origin. Even its most practiced masters seldom use this power. They fear it.”
Nijo asked Robbie, “Who are these masters? How can I meet them?”
Robbie paused, and then said, “I once asked the same questions and was led to a master. But what she told me stopped me from asking more.”
“What did this master tell you?”
“She said that with every use of Mejocuthru you must do the equivalent amount of harm to match the good you accomplished.”
Now it was Nijo’s turn to hesitate. She thought for a while, and then said, “If there is something out there that will help me with my patients, I would like to at least look into it. How can I meet this master?”
Robbie replied, “I shouldn’t have told you about Mejocuthru. It’s dangerous.”
“Look, Robbie, you know the type of patients we deal with. For the most part, their lives are full of pain and suffering, not to mention the emotional strain on their families. I would do anything to help these people. To be honest, I’m surprised you have not used this discipline.”
Robbie thought for a moment and considered how persuasive the master had been against her learning Mejocuthru. She thought the master would also be able to discourage Nijo, so reluctantly, she gave Nijo the master’s address.
ELMO’S SOJOURN, CHAPTER 13
ELMO’S SOJOURN
CHAPTER 13
ELMO RETURNS TO EARTH
Mildred was watching TV when she detected footsteps coming up the cellar stairs. She immediately knew the sight that would soon greet her: a young Elmo and his alien friend. She also knew Elmo had returned because he wanted her to go back to Roth with him. Could she? Could she leave her family and friends to live in an alien world with Elmo? What would Elmo do if she said no? Would he willingly return to the body of an old man and finish their life together in this house? All this ran through her mind as the cellar door slowly opened.
Out stepped young Elmo and the alien. This time Mildred was able to handle their appearance much better. Valmid went upstairs to entertain himself with the computer and Elmo asked Mildred to join him at the kitchen table to discuss their future. They sat there for a long time, going over the pros and cons of staying on Earth or returning to Roth. Elmo finally said, “Mildred, the stay on Roth does not have to be permanent. We could return to Earth any time we wish. The residents of Roth time-travel with the ease of our driving to the store.” This argument pushed her over the edge. She replied, “You know Elmo, during all the years we’ve been together, I’ve done plenty of crazy things with you. This must be the craziest, but I’ll give it a try.”
“Mildred,” Elmo responded, “the last time I was this happy was when you said you would marry me. Let’s go explore the universe!” Elmo headed upstairs to get Valmid. But before returning downstairs he sat at his computer and typed out the following e-mail message.
My name is Elmo Baker. I am a retired scientist formerly employed at Los Alamos. What I have to say is unbelievable but true. I have traveled to the planet Roth. There I found that during the early twentieth century, monsters from the planet Gylex invaded Earth. The purpose of this invasion was to obtain women for the survival of their civilization because a virus had killed most of the females of Gylex. Unfortunately, all the women captured are no longer alive. I have included two attachments. One is a detailed report on how to protect the Earth from further invasions because it’s likely that these monsters may be returning soon. The second attachment is a video of one of the monsters attacking a house on the planet I visited. Please believe me and take action.
Elmo sent the e-mail to The New York Times, The Washington Post and every other major newspaper he could think of. He then shut the computer down and headed downstairs. As he entered the living room, he found Valmid laying out two time-space machines on the floor. Elmo told Valmid, “I’ve alerted some of our major newspapers. I hope to God they heed my warning.” Valmid then had Mildred stand in one of the machines, handed her the control box and told her to push the start button. With a face full of apprehension, she followed his instructions and was gone in a flash. Elmo and Valmid entered the other machine and made their exit from planet Earth.
ELMO’S SOJOURN, CHAPTER 12
ELMO’S SOJOURN
CHAPTER 12
ELMO HAS HIS HOMECOMING
The four stayed up late into the night. Rolack described how she was made pregnant three times, felt the joy of motherhood as a new life stirred within her body and was filled with revulsion at the sight of the tiny, winged monster she delivered. She never met any of the women from Earth but had heard talk of them. They had not she learned, survived for very long on Gylex. Because they were physically so much smaller than the women of Roth and Gylex, they often died during pregnancies in which they carried fetuses much larger than an Earth child. Labor and delivery killed the few that survived to term. All that was left were stories and bones scattered among the trash of the prison.
Valmid and Cal could not take their eyes from their daughter, couldn’t believe she was back, and that the planet was safe from more women suffering her fate. Valmid explained to Rolack how Elmo had traveled to Roth and how his visit led to her freedom and that of her companions.
After a while, Valmid and Elmo decided to take a walk and let Cal and Rolack have some of the mother-daughter time they both desperately needed. Valmid sensed also that something troubled Elmo and thought perhaps a stroll in the early morning air would ease his mind and loosen his thoughts.
They walked for a while, enjoying the peaceful countryside. Then Elmo began, “Valmid, before I arrived on your planet, I was a retired scientist just puttering around in my cellar. Then I hit on the concept that brought me here. Back on earth, I have a wife with whom I have spent most of my life. But that life is over, and I can’t return to it. Now, I’m a young man. I have a future again. I cannot go back to Earth and resume my retirement. There is so much I want to learn from you, from your planet. I want Mildred to journey here. She is my life; we share a history. I need her to share my future on Roth. If I cannot convince Mildred to come here, I don’t know what I will do.”
They walked on a while more before Valmid shared his thoughts. “Elmo, your knowledge has already proved indispensable to Roth. Who knows in what ways my planet could benefit from the knowledge you have of Earth? And if there were a problem on Roth that can only be solved by making a trip to Earth, I would find it difficult to blend into the population. I have discussed all this with the elders of the planet, and we all reached the same conclusion: We want you to stay.”
They continued their walk in silence until Elmo asked the question that he had been nagging him whenever he thought of making Roth his home. “Valmid, if Mildred agrees to come here, could she travel through the wormhole that I first used? If she could, we would both be starting a new life on a new planet.”
Valmid considered this, “If she agrees to come here, I see no problem in granting your request. I think we should return to Earth and try to convince Mildred to spend time on Roth.”
ELMO’S SOJOURN, CHAPTER 9
ELMO’S SOJOURN
CHAPTER 9
ELMO RETURNS HOME
Suddenly, Elmo found himself back in his cellar, standing next to Valmid and near his time-space machine. Valmid made a sound that could only be described as a chuckle as he examined Elmo’s machine.
Upstairs, Elmo could hear Mildred in the kitchen. Even though it had only been a few days’ journey, with all he had learned and seen, Elmo felt he had been gone for a very long time. The two travelers slowly made their way up the stairs.
In the kitchen, Mildred was just cleaning up after dinner, washing a cast-iron skillet when she heard someone coming up the cellar stairs. “Elmo’s back,” she said to herself. She couldn’t wait to hear about his adventures and what it was like to travel in space and time. Then she thought, “Wait a minute. I had to control the machine in order for him to return.” With that thought, she clutched the handle of the skillet with two hands ready to battle whoever had broken into the cellar.
As she watched, the door leading to the cellar slowly swung open. Out stepped a young man she did not recognize. She screamed, “Who are you? If you don’t leave right now, this skillet will make a lasting impression on you. Now get!”
The young man just stood there and said, “Mildred, it’s me, Elmo.”
“Who are you trying to kid?” answered Mildred, now studying the stranger more closely. This young man was younger than Elmo had been when she first met him, yet he was starting to look vaguely familiar.
The stranger then said, “It’s me, Doll.” Elmo was the only one who ever called her that. After nearly forty years of marriage, he still called her Doll when they were alone.
After the stranger uttered her nickname, Mildred studied his face more closely as the skillet slipped from her hand and crashed to the floor. “Elmo, it is you. What on earth happened to you?” As she was finishing her question, Valmid appeared, ducking his head through the doorway behind Elmo. That’s when Mildred crashed to the floor.
* * *
When Mildred came to, she was lying on the couch and the new Elmo was dabbing her face with a wet cloth. He explained how he arrived on planet Roth and found that the creature he had transported to Earth was a pet of one of the inhabitants of the planet. He went on to tell her about Valmid and how she would be able to communicate with her new guest. Next, he explained the complexity of time-space travel and the fact that he survives his trip through the wormhole was just dumb luck. Finally, Elmo described the increasing invasions the planet Gylex was mounting on Roth and the information Valmid required to repel the invaders.
“Now prepare yourself, Mildred, while I properly introduce you to Valmid,” he told her. As Elmo said this, Valmid entered the room. He seemed to be studying Mildred and communicated to Elmo, “Your wife is still very disturbed by my presence. Perhaps we should do some research on your computer and gain the knowledge of chlorofluorocarbons and give her time to digest your youthful appearance – and my countenance.”
Elmo gave Mildred’s hand a pat and told her that they were going to his study. He then led Valmid up the stairs. Soon Elmo was punching away at of his keyboard while Valmid shook his head at how such an archaic device held information that might save his planet.
Locating a web site giving the history of chlorofluorocarbons (CFCs), Elmo began to read. Discovered in 1928, CFCs, a group of chemicals including Freon, had many uses in both industry and the home. The gases were considered harmless. In fact, their inventor, Thomas Midgley, once took in a lungful of one of them to demonstrate its safety and then blew on a candle to show it was nonflammable. After many years of use, CFCs were linked to the destruction of the ozone layer. Their manufacture declined and other gases replaced Freon. Elmo explored further and located the chemical composition of Freon, including the formulation and conditions necessary to produce it.
Valmid was greatly pleased and was sure that the chemists of Roth could manufacture Freon with little trouble, and since he had never had any ill effects before or now from breathing the air, he felt Freon would not harm the inhabitants of Roth. He had accomplished his mission and was anxious to return to his planet and start planning the deterrence of the demons from Gylex. He had other plans to consider, but for now, the welfare of his planet was his prime concern.
Valmid turned to Elmo, and Elmo sensed what he was about to ask, “Now Elmo, what are your plans?” Valmid knew the confusion Elmo was experiencing, torn between his new taste for adventurous space travel and his love for Mildred and the life they had shared for so many years.
Valmid suggested, “Perhaps you and Mildred should spend some time together. I’ll stay here and amuse myself with your computer.”
Elmo made his way down the stairs and found Mildred sitting at the kitchen table. He sat opposite her and extended his hands. They sat there holding hands for a few moments before Mildred spoke. “So many changes, Elmo. I’ve learned to expect the unexpected during my life with you, but never anything like this. You could be my son; you’re so young. And there’s a gray seven-foot alien upstairs waiting to return to his planet. It’s too much to comprehend all at once. Elmo, what are we to do?”
Elmo had given the possibilities a great deal of thought and had formulated a plan. “Dear,” he told her, “I must return with Valmid to see if my theory for repelling the Gylexians is correct. If it is not, he will need my help to investigate the history of Earth and what could generate the mysterious substances needed to return Roth to its former tranquility. The safety of Earth is also at stake. And there is still so much I want to learn about Roth. I may want to stay there for some time. Mildred, once the planet is safe, I want you to travel to Roth with me. For wherever you are, that is where my home is.”
Mildred did not know what to say to this proposition. Elmo seemed so certain, so confident, and her mind was full of so many doubts. They talked for hours, sitting and holding hands at the kitchen table. “Mildred, I left here an old, retired scientist, I returned a young adventurer involved with a planet that needs my help.” Then he told all he knew about Roth. How, even though it was an alien planet, biology and geology were very similar to that of Earth. He struggled to voice his emotions.
“The inhabitants of Roth are different on the outside, but inside they share the same hopes and fears as we, the same love and dreams for the future. Roth is not safe now, but when it is, I’ll be back, and I hope you will return with me to share my adventure.”
“I just don’t know Elmo; I just don’t know.”
Elmo stood, “Think about all I said Mildred. My future is with you, and we can have a future neither one of us had ever dreamed of.”
They could hear Valmid making his way down the stairs. Elmo stood, kissed Mildred, and made his way to the cellar door. Valmid appeared in the kitchen, bowed to Mildred, then made his way down the stairs with Elmo. A few minutes later a blinding flash emanated from the cellar below. Mildred knew she was once again alone.
ELMO’S SOJOURN, CHAPTER 7
ELMO’S SOJOURN
CHAPTER 7
ATTACK FROM GYLEX
The scene outside the house was peaceful and remained peaceful until the dingo plants began their shrill alarm, joined moments later by the sound of flapping wings. The camera recorded a sight, illuminated by the outside lights that sent a chill through Elmo; it was a vision from hell. What it showed was a creature at least eight feet tall with arms and legs like that of a human. But there the resemblance ceased. It flew. Its wings appeared like that of a bat, leathery and veined, colored blood red, like the rest of its body. The torso was covered with thickly matted black hair, but the head was its most frightening aspect. It resembled the head of a wolf, with an elongated snout exposing a vicious set of teeth. The ears were long and pointed, also like a bat’s. The creature hovered before the camera, snarled at the dingo’s alarm, then flew off.
Valmid paused a few moments for Elmo’s nerves to settle down then said, “These creatures are a menace to the planet Roth, and someday soon they will again menace Earth. We know a great deal about these creatures, although no Rothian has ever set foot on their planet. These creatures do not know of our ability to read their thoughts. Because of their actions, we never attempted to communicate with them. Elmo, when you arrived, you stood in wonderment and amazement at all you witnessed. But when these creatures from Gylex first arrived, they had one thing in mind: to do us harm. The first attack occurred one night many years ago at a remote location and was not discovered for days. A worker making a delivery discovered a man and his son, dead and partially devoured. The wife and the daughter were missing. Later, other attacks were made in more populated areas, and the reality of these monsters became known.
“We learned that the invasion was from the planet Gylex, which had been wracked by a strange illness, a virus that destroyed most of the female population. It was finally controlled, but not until ninety percent of the females were dead. You now know Elmo, that our biochemistry is very similar – almost identical. The Gylexans share this similarity. The sexual chemistry of us all is also similar. The hormones and mating rituals are almost identical. Only the gestation periods vary slightly. The primary purpose of the invasion of Roth was to abduct females to sustain their population. Once captured, the females were implanted with embryos created with eggs harvested from Gylexian females before the females died.”
Elmo shivered at the thought of being touched by one of these monsters, let alone carried to their planet.
“We are a peaceful civilization, unable to defend ourselves from these monsters. We found that the dingo plants, with their extended nocturnal strands, would warn of an invasion. The Gylexans came only at night, for their planet had an odious and polluted atmosphere allowing very little light to penetrate. They cannot bear the life-giving light of our days.”
Valmid paused for a moment and his eyes filled with tears. “One day,” he said, “our daughter was visiting friends. The dingo plants of the house had not yet surrounded the dwelling with their strands, allowing the fiends to strike and abduct our girl. Those are her clothes you are wearing now.”
Elmo’s heart sank at this knowledge. “But Valmid, you said Earth was also in danger and had been invaded in the past. We have had no invasions by these beasts.”
“Ah Elmo,” Valmid replied, “but you have. From the Gylexian thoughts we found that Earth had been invaded, your females captured and returned to Gylex. These monsters kept a low profile on Earth because of your weapons, and the ease with which your society uses them without hesitation. Earth abductions continued for some time, until an invasion team became deathly ill. One day, a group of them died; dropped to the ground and instantly decayed. A lone survivor, near death, returned to Gylex and reported this development. Gylex then ceased its Earth invasions. They had not consumed anything on your planet, so they assumed something in your atmosphere was killing them. But these monsters are persistent. They continued to send parties for short periods of time – always returning to Gylex close to death. That is until recently. They still cannot remain on your planet for long, but the time they can tolerate visits is lengthening. I fear soon the invasion of Earth will begin again.”
Elmo thought for a moment. He did recall remembering a series of unexplained disappearances of women early in the twentieth century.
“I’ve been to your planet Elmo, so have others from Roth. But because of the strict rules of our people, we are not allowed to interfere with your civilization. Imagine the hysteria that would ensue if I were to appear. Knowing your love for weaponry, I doubt if I would have existed long enough to tell my story. You cannot imagine the joy, the relief all my brothers and I felt when you came to us. We hope to learn of this component contained in your atmosphere and banish this plague from our planet.”
Elmo’s mind was overwhelmed by this awesome assignment. “I am a physicist, not a chemist,” he protested. But his mind began to consider the evidence. Something in the Earth’s atmosphere sickened these beasts. The concentration of whatever it was continued to climb until it began killing them. Now, it is decreasing, yet this mysterious component of Earth’s atmosphere remains unknown. Elmo considered, “The only component of the atmosphere that is changing is carbon dioxide – producing the supposed greenhouse effect. But that gas continues to increase as the population and industry of our planet grows.”
Valmid stood and said, “It is nearly dawn, we should all get some rest.” He extended his hand to Cal and, as Elmo bounced along behind, they went upstairs.
Elmo went to bed but not to sleep. He pondered what he had just been told. Finally, he fell asleep with his mind still in torment. Blinding light entered through the unshielded window, awakening Elmo as his mind once again filled with the mystery he was asked to solve. He lay there thinking and testing theory after theory. There was nothing he could think of that had increased in the Earth’s atmosphere, then decreased without being detected. Elmo decided he must rest more. He cleared his mind and suddenly it came to him – crystal clear. He sat upright in bed and struck his forehead with his hand. “Of course, that has to be it!”
Valmid was aware of Elmo’s thoughts all morning. He now entered Elmo’s bedroom with a smile on his face “Come my friend,” he said, “we have much to plan and work to do.”
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