Silver Linings Playbook May 2, 2013
Posted by nrhatch in Books & Movies, Fiction, Health & Wellness.Tags: Books, Bradley Cooper, Mental disorder, Movies, Silver Linings Playbook
45 comments
On Tuesday night, we watched Silver Linings Playbook.
In it, a just released mental patient is reading through novels discussed in the HS English class his estranged wife teaches.
When Pat finishes Hemingway’s A Farewell to Arms, he throws it out the window in disgust and wakes his parents to express outrage that so many “must reads” have twisted unhappy endings instead of “silver linings.” I share his wrath.
Here’s to finding silver linings in the midst of cloudy days, to being better (not bitter), and to living happily-ever-after on a moment by moment basis.
Aah . . . that’s better!
Moment of Truth April 30, 2013
Posted by nrhatch in Books & Movies, Fiction, People, Writing & Writers.Tags: Books, Edgar Award, Fiction, Legal Thriller, Lisa Scottoline
14 comments
If you’re in the mood for a legal thriller full of unexpected twists and turns, pick up Moment of Truth by Lisa Scottoline.
Don’t be surprised if you can’t put it back down.
Despite pot holes in the plot (and a few sheer impossibilities to steer around), this story gives readers an insider’s view at how police officers and district attorneys put cases together ~ piece by piece.
We also see how legal theories fall apart and collapse like a house of cards when constructed on an unstable foundation.
Nothing is certain until that final moment of truth . . . when the last piece of puzzle snaps into place.
I never noticed the puppeteer pulling strings.
From the book jacket:
Attorney Jack Newlin comes home one evening to find his wife, Honor, dead on the floor of their elegant dining room. Convinced that he knows who killed her ~ and determined to hide the truth ~ Jack decides to make it look as though he did it. Staging the crime scene so that the evidence incriminates him, he then calls the police. And to hammer the final nail in his own coffin, he hires the most inexperienced lawyer he can find, a reluctant rookie by the name of Mary DiNunzio, employed at the hot Philadelphia firm of Rosato & Associates.
Though inexperienced, Mary doubts Jack’s confession and begins to investigate the crime. She find that instead of having a guilty client who is falsely proclaiming his innocence, she as an innocent client who is falsely proclaiming his guilt.
With help from the most unexpected sources, she sets out to prove what really happened ~ because, as any lawyer knows, a case is never as simple as it seems.
From the author’s bio on Amazon:
Lisa Scottoline is the New York Times bestselling author of seventeen novels including her most recent, THINK TWICE, and also writes a weekly column, called Chick Wit, for The Philadelphia Inquirer. Lisa has won many honors and awards, notably the Edgar Award, given for excellence in crime fiction, and the Fun Fearless Female Award from Cosmopolitan Magazine. She also teaches a course she created, called Justice and Fiction at the University of Pennsylvania Law School, and regularly does speaking engagements.
There are twenty-five million copies of her books in print, and she is published in over thirty other countries.Lisa graduated magna cum laude in three years from the University of Pennsylvania, with a B.A. degree in English, and her concentration was Contemporary American Fiction, taught by Philip Roth and others. She graduated cum laude from the University of Pennsylvania Law School. She remains a lifelong resident of the Philadelphia area, where she lives with her array of disobedient pets.
I would love to meet Lisa for lunch in Philly some day, perhaps at Dickens Inn (now Cavanaugh’s in Headhouse Square) . . . just after sitting in on her Justice and Fiction class at the law school.
Aah . . . that’s better!
A Peculiar Party ~ Part Eleven April 1, 2013
Posted by nrhatch in Fiction, Synchronicity & Mystery, Word Play.Tags: Fiction, Humor, Joke, Magic, Mystery, Word Play
26 comments
I stared at Madame Frieda. ”What do you mean, you set the wheels in motion?”
“Isn’t that obvious? If I hadn’t sent the necklace, Betty wouldn’t have gone to the beach, she wouldn’t have gotten sand in her shoes, she wouldn’t have entered the alley to sit on the bench, and . . .”
“. . . Freddie wouldn’t have found the totem pole.”
“Quite right. It’s all connected. There are no inconsequential choices.”
“What’s to be done now? How can I find the spell-weaver?”
“You won’t. He will find you when the time is right.” With that, Madame Frieda stood. ”Let’s go out to the garden. I have something to show you.”
In the garden, I noticed a number of stone monuments.
The first, shaped like a toadstool, stood to my left. A small protected opening graced its front. I tried to peer inside the tiny portal, but my eyes couldn’t penetrate the darkness.
Madame Frieda shifted her weight. Her silk skirts rustling.
Claire coughed.
Eddie whispered. ”That one doesn’t have anything to do with anything.”
Echoes of Star Wars. These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.
I whispered back. “You read Claire’s mind?” Eddie nodded.
I turned to my right and saw a second monument. Taller than the first, it boasted a larger opening.
And a plaque.
Another plaque.
Drawn to the monument, I wondered about possible repercussions.
To read, or not to read.
That is the question.
I leaned forward. And stopped. There are no insignificant choices.
Claire laughed. ”Go ahead. Read it.”
Madame Frieda tapped my shoulder. “You may trust Claire on this.”
I crouched and read the plaque. Twice.
I stood and stuck my head into the hollow stone. I hummed. I played with notes. Finding one to my liking, I sustained it, and felt a gentle vibration.
I must have struck the right chord.
Oblivious to all, I hummed. The world fell away.
The white noise in my mind disappeared . . . clarity taking the reins.
The last piece of the puzzle clicked into place.
I laughed out loud. And heard the sound echo in the Eternal Now.
From behind Madame Frieda, a new voice emerged.
The spell-weaver!
I pulled my head from the hollow stone and met his gaze.
He laughed, sounding like Rafiki. “And now you know all.”
“Yes.”
He puffed his pipe. ”Tell us what you have learned.”
“To follow my instincts. To listen to my impulses. To heed my inner voice.”
“Good. Good. And now?”
“What else? I’ll go back to Freddie’s.”
He clapped his hands in delight.
At Freddie’s, I smiled at the transformation.
They’d been busy. Beds weeded and trimmed.
The fountain splashed.
Teddy strolled through the guests with a tray of drinks. ”Hoppy to see you made it back, Ms. McGee.”
“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Teddy.” I selected a glass of wine and took a sip. ”Aah . . . nectar of the gods. Much better than a sludge smoothie.”
Teddy grinned. ”Freddie’s outdone himself this time, eh?”
“He has, indeed. Where might I find my . . . Best Froggie Friend? I’d like to have a word or two with him.”
“I suspect so. You’ll find him near the musicians.”
“Thanks, Teddy.” I walked across the patio, following the notes carried on the whispering wind. Fairy lights created a twinkling canopy overhead.
On the edge of the patio, a trio of musicians tuned strings. I saw Freddie out of the corner of my eye.
The musicians stopped playing to watch.
Et tu?
I clapped Freddie on the back. “You old bastard. Is everyone in Naples in on it?”
Freddie chuckled. ”Not everyone.” I searched his face. Not even a trace of apology.
“Let’s see,” I counted his co-conspirators on my fingers, “Teddy, Betty, Flipper, the Wind in the Willows chef, Al, Eddie, Claire, Frieda, and the musicians. Did I miss anyone?”
Freddie pulled out a chair for me, and waved at Rafiki. “The spell-weaver.”
Relaxing into the evening, I smiled at my old friend. ”I should have suspected you when Al presented the Anything Goes appetizer. How Al managed to avoid fits of convulsive laughter is beyond me.”
“He’s the consummate actor . . .”
“One needs a consummate actor to serve plates of previously consumed crustaceans!” I sipped my wine. “I also should have seen your stamp when I heard Anything Goes playing at the Wind in the Willows.”
“We worried that might be the tell. Any lingering questions?”
“Can I trust you for answers?”
Freddie laughed. “Perhaps. Try me.”
“Eddie wasn’t really reading my mind. You’d coached him, Claire, and Frieda.”
“Of course.”
“And I’m guessing you used nitrous oxide when I arrived to cause me to go dizzy. But how did you manage it?”
Freddie grinned and pointed to his top hat. I spied a small hole in its center. ”Teddy and Betty also had canisters aimed at you. From under his tray and beneath her bonnet.”
“You’re an evil genius! Why didn’t it affect you?”
“Frogs are impervious to laughing gas.”
“So no Frog Fog for you. Good to know. The dolphin? Robotic?“
“My latest toy. I programmed Flipper to offer you a seat and encourage you to sit back down.”
“You couldn’t have Obi Wan Kenobi prowling inside for a non-existent bridge game.” I laughed. “Bet I made you nervous when I whispered in Flipper’s ear.”
“A bit. The only button left to push was Flipper’s trademark laugh . . . which might not have been appropriate.”
With that, Freddie motioned the musicians. The theme for his elaborate April Fool’s Day hoax (starring Nancy McGee as The Fool) swirled through the night air . . . Anything Goes.
Aah . . . that’s better!
If you missed any installments, the entire story can be found at the Short Stories tab . . . or just click HERE!
A Peculiar Party ~ Part Ten March 31, 2013
Posted by nrhatch in Fiction, Synchronicity & Mystery, Word Play.Tags: Clairvoyant, Fiction, Magic, Mystery, Telepathic
20 comments
“So, Eddie, tell me about Madame Frieda and her thoughts.”
“I can’t.”
I frowned. ”Why not?”
“The Telepathic Creed. I can’t divulge what I’ve overheard, except to save someone’s life.”
Frustrated, I glared at Eddie.
“I thought I heard YOU say that you could be of assistance. Seems you’re just wasting my time.” I stood up, tossed my napkin on the table, and turned to go.
“Wait! I can’t tell you what she THOUGHT, but I can tell you where she lives.”
I turned back. Ashamed of my outburst. ”Sorry. I didn’t mean to jump down your throat. It’s just that I’m worried about Freddie, Betty, and Teddy.”
“No need to apologize. I heard you the first time. Your mind said it all.” Eddie hopped down from the wall and motioned me to follow him. ”Let’s go.”
“You’re going with me?”
“Of course. Frieda lives close by. And she never opens the door to strangers.”
Within moments, we came to a small cottage, two blocks north of Fifth Avenue. Eddie rang the bell.
When the door opened, I gasped at the ghastly apparition.
Eddie smiled in greeting. ”Hey, Claire. Is Madame Frieda around.”
“Yes. She’s expecting you.”
Claire turned. Eddie hopped over the threshold. I shut the door and followed them down a short hallway.
Claire said nothing else. I didn’t know whether to apologize for my audible gasp or not.
Eddie leaned over and whispered. ”You would only need to apologize if you hadn’t reacted to her stage make-up. Claire is somewhat of a drama queen.”
Reassured, I nodded.
Claire walked into an expansive library and announced us to Madame Frieda.
I surveyed the space.
Comfortable sofas and over-stuffed chairs filled the room.
Elaborate murals hung on the wall.
Curtains framed the windows.
Eddie hopped past the coffee table and sat in an arm chair next to a checked sofa.
I sunk into the seat opposite him. Exhausted. The day had taken its toll on me.
Madame Frieda’s voice boomed out. “Eddie! It’s been too long.”
“Frieda! You’re looking stoic.”
Turning to me, Frieda smiled a small smile, reminding me of the Mona Lisa. ”You must be Ms. McGee.”
“I am. I’m here because . . . “
“I know exactly why you’re here. I’m clairvoyant. As is Claire.”
My words rushed out in rapid stream. ”Can you help? What can you tell me about the alleyway, the totem, the plaque, or the spell-weaver?”
“The totem is as old as time itself. Intended to be eternal. Sand ever-flowing. A fountain of time.”
She stopped.
As if that explained the all.
“I’m sorry. The day is catching up with me. I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.”
Claire sneered. ”No. You wouldn’t.”
Madame Frieda glared at Claire, then returned her impenetrable gaze to me. ”Who sent the necklace to Betty?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask. I just assumed that . . . “
Madame Frieda held up her hand. ”I sent the necklace to Betty to protect her from the spell-weaver. And, instead, I set the wheels in motion.”
To be continued . . .
If you missed any installments, the entire story can be found at the Short Stories tab . . . or just click HERE!
A Peculiar Party ~ Part Nine March 30, 2013
Posted by nrhatch in Fiction, Humor, Synchronicity & Mystery, Word Play.Tags: Cole Porter, Fiction, Humor, Mystery, Telepathy, Totem Pole
24 comments
I found The Wind in the Willows with no difficulty.
Al, my wide-mouthed waiter, suggested the Anything Goes appetizer to me ~ Chef’s Choice.
Intrigued, I agreed.
When it arrived, I eyed the hummus, kalamata olives, spinach-artichoke dip, pita, cheese and crusty bread with approval.
And then I saw the shrimp . . .
“Al, someone’s eaten the shrimp and left the tails.”
He flashed a toothy grin. “I’m not surprised. The shrimp are always the first to go.”
Too hungry to care, I shoved the tails to one side and dug in. Cole Porter washed over me.
While I ate, I pondered the possibilities. Who or what had enticed Freddie and Betty into the alley? If the spell-weaver could conjure up an entire alleyway complete with totem pole, why couldn’t it go to the beach and get its own sand?
Freddie’s words drifted in: ”Why involve a couple of middle-aged frogs . . . and run the risk of them croaking?”
A disembodied voice interrupted my musings. ”Excuse me . . . I couldn’t help but overhear your thoughts. Perhaps I might be of assistance.”
I whipped around, certain I had NOT been talking out loud. No one there.
“Who are you? WHERE are you?”
“Up here.”
I looked up and saw a red-eyed tree frog peering over the garden wall. An eavesdropper. Who and Where answered, I turned my attention to What.
“What did you say?”
“I heard you thinking and suggested I might be of assistance.”
“How did you hear what I was thinking . . . was I thinking out loud?”
“No. I’m telepathic. A mind-reader. Some see dead people. I hear people’s thoughts.”
“Oh, you poor dear. It’s bad enough hearing my own thoughts. I can’t imagine the cacophony of hearing other people’s thoughts as well.”
“It’s not so bad. My mind tunes out pointless droning. Most folk’s thoughts are just white noise playing in the background. Like the hum of an air conditioner. It tuned in your thoughts when it heard spell-weaver, alleyway, and totem pole in close proximity to one another.”
“What do you know about spells, totem poles, and alleyways?”
“Next to nothing. But I heard Madame Frieda thinking about a spell-weaver last week.”
“Do tell.” I leaned forward to ensure I caught every word. ”By the way, what’s your name, Mr. Telepathic Tree Frog?”
“Eddie.”
“Of course. And I’ll wager odds your siblings are Hettie, Lettie, and . . .”
“No. Just one brother. Daryl.”
To be continued . . .
If you missed any installments, the entire story can be found at the Short Stories tab . . . or just click HERE!
A Peculiar Party ~ Part Eight March 29, 2013
Posted by nrhatch in Fiction, Synchronicity & Mystery, Word Play.Tags: Fiction, Jedi, Magic, Mystery, Obi Wan Kenobi, Star Wars, Yoda
21 comments
“Now we just need to figure out the WHO and the WHY of it all . . . and we’ll be half-way home.”
I stood up, stretched, and sensed the immediate loss of equilibrium.
I stepped away from Freddie.
The feeling lessened but did not disappear.
“Man, Freddie. The vibrations coming off of you are intense.”
Freddie nodded. ”Any time you step off Flipper, you’ll lose his insulating protection.”
Hearing his name, Flipper eyed me, arched his back, flicked his tail, and jerked his head. ”You’re their only hope, Obi Wan Kenobi. You’d best stay aboard.”
“Aye, aye, Captain!”
Giving Flipper a mock salute, I swung one leg over, and sat back down.
Once the brain fog lifted, I leaned forward, and whispered into Flipper’s ear.
Freddie raised his eyebrows at me.
I returned his raise with a wink. ”I told him that close friends call me Yoda.”
My stomach growled. I decided I did not want to grab sustenance from the magic fountain.
“Freddie, I need something to eat. And time to think.”
“Of course. Of course. I’m sorry. I’ll get Teddy to . . . ” He stopped himself, realizing the impossibility of what he had started to say.
“Never mind. I’m going to head to Fifth Avenue. And poke around a bit. What restaurant did you say you were headed to that night?”
“The Wind in the Willows, 793 Fifth Avenue.”
“Good food?”
“The best.”
“Okay. I’ll be back in a couple of hours and we can pick up where we left off.”
To be continued . . .
If you missed any installments, the entire story can be found at the Short Stories tab . . . or just click HERE!
A Peculiar Party ~ Part Seven March 28, 2013
Posted by nrhatch in Fiction, Synchronicity & Mystery, Word Play.Tags: Fiction, Hidden Messages in Water, Magic, Mystery, Time
26 comments
“You said you believe that someone or something compelled you to return to read the plaque.”
“I’m sure of it.”
“Let’s assume you’re correct. Why you? Why Betty?”
“I’ve given that some thought and have a theory. First, frogs are amphibious with a high moisture content. If the magic is conducted via moisture, as it seems to be, we would be more susceptible to the spell-weaver’s magic than the average tourist.”
“That makes sense.”
I snapped my fingers, “Have you ever read Hidden Messages in Water?”
Freddie raised his eyebrows at me. ”Yes. Just this past week.”
“Combining Emoto’s research with your theory, our anonymous sorcerer would have been able to steer you and Betty down the proverbial garden path using the power of suggestion.”
“I’d say so. I suspect that when the spell-weaver communicated with us, it seemed much like our own intuitive impulses firing.”
“Making you believe that curiosity alone impelled you back to the plaque.”
“Yes.”
“Of course, curiosity sometimes kills the cat.”
Freddie nodded assent.
“Let’s assume we’re on the right track. Why did the spell-weaver need you for the spell?”
“I believe the totem needed the sand.”
“The sand in Betty’s necklace.”
“Yes. We were only a few blocks from the beach when the alleyway appeared.”
“The spell-weaver would have sensed you coming, communicating water molecule to water molecule.”
“Yes. He, she, or it read our minds, knew we were coming down Fifth Avenue, knew where we’d been, and knew that Betty had a vial of sand around her neck.”
“And sand in her shoes that had started to chafe.”
“The spell-weaver lured Betty in with the promise of a seat to ease her aching feet.”
“Okay. So it lures Betty in, encourages you to explore until you find the totem, urges you both to back-track to read the plaque.”
Something niggled at the back of my mind. “Wait! You said you had just started reading the plaque when you heard Betty.”
“Yes. So?”
“If you didn’t have your glasses, how were you able to read anything?”
“Wow! Now I really do feel like I’m being cross-examined.”
I shrugged. ”Sorry, Freddie. Old habits die hard. Once a recovering litigator, always a recovering litigator.”
“Fair enough. To answer your question, I hadn’t actually read anything when I heard Betty.”
“So you didn’t notice that you didn’t have your reading glasses.”
“No. Not then.”
“Why did the totem need you to read the plaque?”
“I don’t think it did.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I think it just needed the sand.”
“And the best way for it to get its hands on the sand was for Betty to hand her glasses over to you, pulling both chains off at the same time.”
“Bingo!”
“And once it got hold of the vial, the spell was complete.”
“That’s my best guess.”
“It’s a decent working hypothesis. Except for one thing.”
Freddie stiffened and leaned forward. ”What’s that?”
“If the spell-weaver could conjure up an entire alleyway complete with totem pole, why couldn’t it go to the beach and get its own sand?”
Freddie relaxed. ”I’ve wondered the same thing. Why involve a couple of middle-aged frogs . . . and run the risk of them croaking?”
To be continued . . .
If you missed any installments, the entire story can be found at the Short Stories tab . . . or just click HERE!
A Peculiar Party ~ Part Six March 27, 2013
Posted by nrhatch in Fiction, Synchronicity & Mystery, Word Play.Tags: Dolphin, Flipper, Harry Potter, Magic, Mary Poppins
27 comments
It was starting to make sense . . . in a nonsensical way. Pieces fitting into a puzzle and locking in place. Of course, the specific facts seemed closer to a fantastic dream, where anything is possible, than to daily life with its more predictable cadence.
A few things still didn’t fit.
For one, Teddy had touched the dolphin. And the dolphin hadn’t rushed to sign up for Zumba lessons.
“What about the dolphin, Freddie? Teddy touched Flipper and he didn’t fly away to Never-Never-Land.”
“No. But as you no doubt noticed, the dolphin IS magical . . . everything in the fountain IS magical. It not only provides us with a perfectly balanced diet, it offers up anything else we need.”
“Rather like Mary Poppins and her bottomless carpet bag.”
“Yes. But Betty, Teddy, and I are not Mary Poppins . . . or Harry Potter. We haven’t mastered the art of this sorcery. That’s why we called you.”
I grinned. ”Nancy McGee to the rescue!”
I continued, “Once I’ve figured out where to stick a few more pieces, I’ll do what I can to excise the spell, even if we need a full blown exorcist. Once we get rid of the spell that’s taken hold . . .”
I looked up and noticed Freddie’s discomfiture. ”What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure we want to excise the spell. Some of the side effects are rather lovely. If we just knew what we were doing.”
“I see. You might prefer to master the magic.”
“You don’t approve.”
“It’s not for me to approve or disapprove. It’s your life. Your choice.”
“But you think we’re playing with matches?”
“Perhaps. Let’s see what we are working with before you end up burning down the house.”
“Or burning our bridges.”
“Just so. I have a few more questions. Have you gone anywhere or had anyone over to the house?”
“No. We haven’t seen anyone. As soon as we realized the extent of this spell, we canceled the mail, the newspaper, and stopped answering the phone.”
“So your friends think you’re on vacation?”
“Yes.”
“Wait! The phone still works?”
“Oddly enough, yes. Things with currents running through them are either impervious or less affected by the spell than less animate objects.”
“So . . . tables more than phones. And chairs more than, say, computers?”
“Exactly.”
“The computer still works?”
“It does.”
“Excellent, we may need it.”
I thought for a minute. ”Wait! None of you touched me but I felt peculiar within moments of arriving. As soon as you came out to greet me, my circuits started firing in unpredictable sequences. Why?”
“This magic, like lightning, seems to be conducted via moisture.”
“But I wasn’t standing on soggy ground. And I’m wearing flip flops.”
“True. But the humidity in Florida is so high that . . .”
“. . . the air acts as a conductor.”
“Yes. A mild one.”
“That’s why when it was just you standing near me, I didn’t notice it as much as when Teddy and Betty joined us. At that point, my head started spinning.”
Freddie nodded.
“Why do I feel more like myself now?”
“Two reasons. There’s just one of us here. Teddy, Betty and I decided it would make sense to have just one spokesperson. Me.”
“Okay. Second?”
“You’re sitting on a dolphin. Flipper is an insulator.”
“An insulator?”
“The quantum physics is beyond me, but as long as you’re seated on the dolphin you’re safe.”
I patted Flipper’s head, feeling grateful, indeed.
To be continued . . .
If you missed any installments, the entire story can be found at the Short Stories tab . . . or just click HERE!
A Peculiar Party ~ Part Five March 26, 2013
Posted by nrhatch in Fiction, Synchronicity & Mystery, Word Play.Tags: Fiction, Harry Potter, Magic, Mary Poppins, Mystery, Spell
30 comments
“Okay. We can’t read the plaque or reclaim Betty’s necklace. Not yet, anyway. Let’s go over what has happened since that night. What have you noticed?”
“Well, we can pop about like strobe lights . . . into scenes and out of them.”
“Like Betty did earlier!”
“Yes.”
“Describe the sensation for me. As best you can.”
“I suspect it’s a bit like time travel. But only in the NOW.”
“Place to place. Not time to time.”
“Yes.”
“Makes sense given the plaque’s word choice: The sands of time be not stilled.”
“The best we can tell, the spell affects the time-space continuum, but only the space axis.”
“Which means you haven’t popped back in time to visit King Arthur or . . .”
Freddie finished the thought. ”Or Merlin.”
“Ah . . . Merlin would be the one to see.”
“Indeed he would.”
“When you say ‘we’ . . . just you and Betty?”
“Teddy too.”
“Teddy?”
Freddie looked apologetic. ”I touched him when we got back that night.”
“And that was enough?”
“Yes. What we touch, changes. And not always in predictable or pleasant ways. Fortunately Teddy is still steady.”
I looked around at unweeded beds. ”Is that why the garden is untidy?”
“Yes. We haven’t gardened. We don’t want to turn this space into a second Magic Kingdom with singing flowers and dancing palms.”
“Good thinking. One Magic Kingdom is enough.”
I leaned back against Flipper’s tail to consider Freddie’s tale, “That’s why Teddy offered me an imaginary cocktail from an empty tray.”
Freddie nodded. ”If Teddy had mixed you a cocktail, it might have been as volatile as a Molotov ~ anything from the nectar of the gods to toxic waste.”
“A sludge smoothie.”
“We haven’t figured out how to predict IT yet . . . whatever IT is. We’re still in the dark. Hence the S.O.S. to you.”
“Give me a few examples. If Teddy had fixed me a drink, what would have happened to the glass? If you know.”
“We never know exactly. But, if you picture the dancing teapot in Beauty and the Beast, you’ll be on the right dance floor.”
“Really? So . . . have all your pots flipped their lids?”
“No. We haven’t eaten since that night.”
“Nothing!?”
“Not a thing. We can drink from the fountain. It provides full nourishment . . . but I miss chewing.”
“Rather like being on a juice fast, eh?”
“Yes.” He chuckled. ”Betty is delighted. She’s never hungry AND she’s losing weight. As far as she’s concerned, it’s the perfect diet. She feels younger and more energetic than she has in years.”
“Almost like having your own fountain of youth.”
“Almost. In fact, Betty’s gotten a bit vain.”
“I noticed her eyeing the mirror as she passed by. It seemed out of character.”
“She’s feeling rather like the Belle of the Ball.”
“She’s Belle and you’re . . .”
“. . . the Beast!”
I continued considering, doing most of my thinking out loud so Freddie could correct any misapprehension on my part.
“If you can’t fix food or serve drinks, it’s rather hard to entertain. That’s why there are no other guests tonight. And your King Midas Touch is why you couldn’t get me a chair.”
“Yes.”
“Could I have gotten a chair myself?”
“Most are out of commission ~ any that we’ve sat in are off doing their own thing.”
“Such as?”
Freddie grinned.
“Most seem to enjoy a good game of Bridge.”
To be continued . . .
If you missed any installments, the entire story can be found at the Short Stories tab . . . or just click HERE!
A Peculiar Party ~ Part Four March 25, 2013
Posted by nrhatch in Fiction, Synchronicity & Mystery, Word Play.Tags: Fiction, Magic, Mystery, Naples, Sand, Totem
32 comments
“What happened then?”
“We walked back through the alley as fast as we could. We wanted to get the hell out of there.”
“Understandable.”
“When we reached the bench and Betty saw the pile of sand in front of it, she gasped and grabbed her neck.”
“Why?”
“She realized that the necklace with the vial of sand was missing.”
“Had it come off when she handed you the glasses?”
“It must have. She’s sure she was still wearing it when she emptied her shoes.”
“Did you go back for it?”
Freddie gave me a withering look.
“No. I guess not. So, what happened?”
“We stood by the bench for a minute, debating what to do next.”
“Because you couldn’t walk out onto Fifth Avenue looking like a bunch of mutants.”
“Exactly. But the light started shifting again.”
“Back to normal?”
“Not normal. But color returned and the metallic glow dissipated.”
“Then what?”
“I took Betty home so she could lie down.”
I sat back. Leaning against Flipper’s tail. I let Freddie’s recollections settle as I considered what we knew and what we still needed to know.
I pondered the next best step.
Thankful that the earlier mental fog seemed to have lifted.
After a minute or two, I spoke. ”Freddie, why don’t you and I go back there right now and read the rest of the plaque. It might help to explain what’s been happening around here.”
“Can’t do it.”
“Look. I understand you’re shaken up. But if we wish to get to the bottom of this, the plaque is the best place to start.”
Freddie nodded. ”I agree.”
“So . . . let’s go.”
“We can’t. It’s gone.”
“What’s gone?”
“All of it. The plaque. The totem pole . . . “
“. . . and the alley.”
“Exactly. Teddy and I went back that night, and again the next day, and three times since.”
That sounded more like the Freddie I knew.
“Teddy and I combed Fifth Avenue from West to East and East to West. It’s gone. If it weren’t for all the odd goings on around here, I’d be convinced that Betty and I imagined the whole thing.”
To be continued . . .
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