Save me a Story – Destiny

This is the continuing story of my adventures in the tale: Save me a Story. If you wish to read the introduction to understand what is happening, click this link: 

https://www.hdhstory.net/Storyblog/?p=3431 

Otherwise, I’ve tried to summarize what happened at the beginning of most of the sections of this story.  

Destiny

It was a peaceful town lying on the outskirts of the kingdom of Selat. No one took much notice of it, so it allowed many nefarious groups to meet without being caught. 

One such group was meeting at this very moment. The group was composed of several sorcerers and sorceresses. Their leader was the infamous Necroma. 

 

Necroma was pure evil. She was tall with long shiny black hair. She was the essence of dark magic. She used her dark magic and cunning to bewitch others and control them. She aimed to become the most powerful sorceress in Selat and all other worlds.

“Our task is simple,” was her decree. “Once we have taken all of the tales of this world, the only story to be told will be ours. It is our destiny.”

“But how will we accomplish this task of stealing all of these stories?” questioned a lower sorcerer named Grenwin.

“It would be but a simple spell for me,” Necroma replied, “but that would be too easy. I prefer to take stories in groups randomly and maybe even mix them up a little. That will keep the folk heroes so confused that by the time we get the last stories and characters, no one will be left to save them.”

“Then we will be in control. We will be the writers of our future!” someone in the group shouted.  

“Yes, indeed,” answered Necroma, “I will be the maker of our future.”

Whether it was the group’s high energy or the loud cheering of approval, no one paid much attention to what Necroma had actually said. 

“TO US AND OUR STORY! TO DESTINY!” was the collective cry.

Continued in…Enticement

Posted in A to Z Blog Challenge 2023, Original Stories, Writing | Tagged , | 1 Comment

Save me a Story – Cottage

This is the continuing story of my adventures in the tale: Save me a Story. If you wish to read the introduction to understand what is happening, click this link: 

https://www.hdhstory.net/Storyblog/?p=3431 

Otherwise, I’ve tried to summarize what happened at the beginning of most of the sections of this story.  

Cottage

This quest to find the stolen stories of Selat seemed impossible. A mystic’s quest, a ghostly town, and now a talking beaver. What strange occurrence could be next?

The beaver’s path to wherever it was going may have been simple to the beaver. However, to me, it was a series of misfortunes. If I wasn’t tripping over some root of a tree, I was having my shoes fill up with water from sloshing through nearby ponds and streams. I had no idea where I was being led, yet I knew that this was the path I needed to take. 

We finally made it to a clearing, and there in front of us was a cottage. It was rustic looking, with no apparent occupants, and the door was ajar. 

The beaver stopped before the open doorway, turned to me, and said, “You must look for clues within. I have stayed with you too long and must disappear so as not to raise suspicion. When you have found what you need, continue to your next destination, which will appear behind this cottage. With any luck, you will meet the next helper on your quest. Remember, eyes are always watching you, and not all eyes are on your side.”

The beaver immediately turned around and headed in a different direction, not the path they had taken, nor one that was supposed to be behind the cottage. I was about to ask the beaver where it was going, but before I could say a word, a voice sounded, “All in good time.” And the beaver disappeared. 

I had no choice but to enter the cottage.

The first thing I noticed was that the contents of the house looked very familiar. There was a dining room table that had three bowls on it. Two were filled with breakfast porridge, and the third was empty. 

As I moved to the living room, I saw three chairs. One was sturdy, made out of wood; a second, relatively cushy, was covered with plush upholstery; and a third, much smaller, which might have been a chair but was broken, and pieces of whatever it had been were lying scattered on the floor.  

There were stairs leading up to another floor, and I guessed what I would find there. Three beds came to mind;  a big, a medium, and a small one, with the possibility of a little girl sleeping in the small bed. I was partially correct.

In the room at the top of the stairs were the three beds, as I expected, except no one was sleeping in any of them. I discovered something that did not fit where I was. I examined the smallest bed and the room and found a lock of golden hair, which made sense as I assumed I had entered the house of the story Goldilocks and the Three Bears. However, draped across the window sill, with the window wide open, was a red hoodie, clearly in the wrong story. 

There was a note inside the right pocket of the hoodie, which read, “Gone to Granny’s. You know the way.”

As I looked out of the window facing the back of the house, I saw a shallow river that appeared to end in a wooded forest. I grabbed the red hoodie, went back outside, and walked around the house, where I found a dappled gray horse waiting for me. 

As words and music filled my head, “Over the river and through the woods, to grandmother’s house we go…” it began snowing.

That song had nothing to do with stories. It was not even Thanksgiving. Then again, who knows what day it was today on Selat if they even celebrate the same holidays as we do?

I got onto the horse and said, “Lead on.”

To no surprise, it replied, “As you wish.”

Continued in…Destiny

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Save me a Story – Beaver

This is the continuing story of my adventures in the tale: Save me a Story. If you wish to read the introduction to understand what is happening, click this link: 

https://www.hdhstory.net/Storyblog/?p=3431 

Otherwise, I’ve tried to summarize what happened at the beginning of most of the sections of this story.  

Beaver

As a storyteller, I am somewhat versed in fairy and folk tales. I enjoy a good fantasy as well as the next person. However, when put in the position that I am right now, where I have to find all the stories that have disappeared, apparently stolen, in a place that doesn’t even exist in my world, I’m at a loss as to what to do. 

First, I’m whisked away by some fortune teller to a realm called Selat. Next, I find myself in a ghost town, whose only inhabitant, if you would call it that, is a voice attached to an invisible store clerk who answered when I asked, “Where the stories had gone?” –  “They have been taken far away to the north.”

Well, I guess the prudent thing would be to start heading north. Since I have no idea where I’m going, as long as I keep going north, I guess I won’t be lost. 

The road I was taking seemed well-built for the first hour, but then the paved road became unkempt. I struggled a bit, ensuring I didn’t get tripped up by loose rocks or roots that jutted up from the ground when I came upon a small river leading up to a marsh. That was where the path ended. 

As I made my way to the marsh through the wooded area surrounding it, I noticed a movement on the ground along the banks of the river a few feet in front of me. Cautiously I moved forward along the bank, hoping to find a path again, when I heard a splash. It came from the marsh, which was just ahead. 

I got there in time to see a beaver paddling towards what appeared to be its home. It was built out of sticks, twigs, rocks, and mud. I watched as the beaver climbed on top of its lodge, turned, and stared at me. I studied beavers in school as part of an aquatic animal unit. I recollected that beavers’ eyes were supposed to be black. The color of this beaver’s eyes was vivid green. The same color as the mystic woman that sent me on this mission. 

The other thing I noticed was that though beavers’ lodges are supposed to look like mounds of sticks and mud and stuff, this beaver’s lodge was definitely in the shape of an arrow that pointed northeast.

It didn’t take long to figure out that this was no ordinary beaver and that the arrow was meant for me to go in that direction. 

Seeing the understanding on my face, the beaver then swam back from its lodge to me.

“If you would be so kind as to follow me,” was the first sound it made as it reached me. 

“A talking beaver?” I muttered. “What’s next, Aslan and the rest of the cast from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe?”

“All in good time,” was the beaver’s reply.

What else could I do but follow the beaver?

Continued in…Cottage

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Save me a Story – Ask a Question

This story begins my adventures in the tale: Save me a Story. The introduction of this story was given in the A to Z Theme reveal post. If you wish to read the introduction, then click on this link: https://www.hdhstory.net/Storyblog/?p=3431. If you choose not to, I’ve summarized the intro in the first paragraph.

Ask a Question

A mysterious mystic in my world told me that I was prophesied to do this task. I was to find all the stories that had been stolen and return them to their proper place. That place – the Kingdom of Selat. Then all of a sudden, she disappears, and I end up here, standing in the middle of an unknown village in Selat, tasked to find stories. How am I to do that? 

Under normal circumstances, I would ask someone questions as to the disappearance. However, as far as I could tell, no one was around to ask. 

I walked slowly down the main road, peering into each window of the buildings I passed. The town seemed rather old. The houses were all made of wood, not refined and well-cut wood, but more of scraps of lumber that had been pieced together. It reminded me of an old-fashioned western town from the 1800s, based on what I’d seen in history books and on TV. 

I called out for help every 50 feet but got no response, just the sound of the wind blowing through the town and my feet shuffling along the road.

I finally stopped at what appeared to be a storefront, as there was a sign over the doorway that read, “Ask your questions here. Limited supply. ” 

I found that an unusual name for a store.

There was no bell or knocker on the door, as was the case in the other buildings I had passed. But as I approached the door, it swung open. 

I cautiously stepped into the room and again found no one there. I walked up to what would seem to be a counter. A bell was on it, the kind you see in hotels to call for a clerk when no one is there. I tapped the bell. Its sound rang pure and echoed through the room.

A voice called out, “Ask your question.”

“Where is everyone?” I asked

The response was, “That was your first. You have two more.”

“But you didn’t answer my question,” I said.

The only reply that came was, “You have two more.”

Not having any other alternative, I asked another question. “Do you know what has happened here?”

The response was, “Not a wise question. You have one more.”

I thought carefully about the last question. “Where have all the stories gone?”

There was a pause before the voice spoke again.

“Your answers are – They are looking for the stories. Yes. and They have been taken far away to the north. That ends this transaction. You must now leave something as payment.”

“What should I leave?’ 

“Your questions have been used up.”

“Then I guess that is exactly what I’m leaving with you. A question.”

“Well done,” was its reply. “Till we meet again.” 

Continued in … Beaver

 

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Save me a Story – Intro

Save me a Story

In the beginning…

The door opens, and I look into the eye of the mystic I was directed to. Why, you may ask? Well, it all started when I woke up this morning.

I had been dreaming I was in a car. Dawn was approaching. As the sun began to rise, sunshine hit the front of the car I was in, and I was blinded, so I pulled off the road and stopped the car. I got out, and standing there was a woman. She stood about 5 foot 6 and had short blond hair and eyes that were vivid green. She stared straight at me. Her eyes were what attracted me, or should I say, mesmerized me. 

She said only a few words. It was an address and a request that I go there. Then she turned and walked away. 

Under normal circumstances, I would mark her as a crazy lady or another one of my vivid dreams, but the look she gave me bewitched me. So when I woke up, well… here I am.

The mystic asked me to sit down. I realized this mystic was the woman I had seen in my dreams. 

“I asked you here for a reason,” she said. “I am the gateway to any number of kingdoms. And you are needed in one of them.”

Not knowing what she was talking about, I asked, “Why me? And what kingdom?”

Her answer was quick, ”Because it has been foretold, and it is the kingdom of Selat.”

This did not make it any clearer. “What do you mean….”

She stopped me before I could finish my question. “You are a bearer of tales, are you not?”

I nodded yes.

“In Selat, all the stories that have existed have been stolen. Therefore it is your task to discover where they have been taken to and to bring them back. What has happened in Selat also threatens your world. Once stories are gone, there is no history, no learning from generation to generation; there is no true existence.”

I didn’t know how to respond, and she sensed that. So she said only one thing. 

“Just do it!”

And she disappeared, as did everything else around me. I found myself alone in an uninhabited village in this new kingdom called Selat.

Where to begin…?

————–

Continued in … Ask a Question

Posted in A to Z Blog Challenge 2023, Original Stories, Storytelling, Writing | Tagged , | 30 Comments

A preview – You’re all invited

A Preview – You’re all invited

I was substitute teaching in a 3rd-grade classroom. There came a time when I got to tell the class a story. I referred to the tale of the Three Billy Goats Gruff in my story. I asked the students whether they had heard of the tale before. None of them had. We discussed what stories their parents read to them or told them when they were younger. Sadly, many of the traditional stories I mentioned they had never heard. Some students said that their parents don’t read to them because their parents think their kids were old enough to read by themselves. 

Even though my own parents didn’t read much to me as a child, I was still immersed in folk and fairy tales. I’m sure my life now would be different if I didn’t have those stories back then. We seem to be losing the culture and lessons learned from telling and reading traditional stories as modern society moves away from them and changes or bans them because they are not PC. Those stories are fading from our existence. I feel that is a tragedy. 

———–

Red Riding Hood was on her way to the three bears’ house. She had just received an invitation to a meeting in a local village to discuss what could be done about the changes in people’s attitudes towards folktales. She thought that Goldilocks would be interested in going too and knew just where Goldilocks was. When she got to the bears’ house, she found the door open, one porridge bowl empty, a broken chair, and upstairs – three empty beds.  

The meeting was important to Red, so she took off her riding hood, left a note in its pocket, saying, “Gone to Granny’s. You know the way,” and draped her riding hood over the window sill where Goldilocks could find it. She then went to her grandmother’s house, told granny she was attending a meeting, and left a note for the woodsman explaining she was concerned about a wolf and her granny’s health.

Rumplestiltskin was frustrated and angry about how his name was besmirched by that girl who had promised him her first child. He had received an invitation to a meeting of all the bad/evil characters of stories to discuss what could be done to change their perceived reputations. He definitely was going to that meeting.

Many characters from folktales, fairy tales, and stories written were receiving these invitations. Those meetings did take place. However, they were all traps to capture those characters through magic. Their memories would be wiped, so they could not remember who they were or the story they were part of. And then they were whisked away by more sorcery. 

A mystic had tasked me to find all these characters and stories and return them to their proper place. And somehow, my friend Ronald got involved too. 

Beginning on April 1st, follow the 26-part story of what happened in my quest as I tell all in the 2023 A to Z Blog Challenge. I will post daily links on my Facebook page and LinkedIn.  Or you can just visit my blog – https://www.hdhstory.net/storyblog each day in April (except on Sundays). The links for each part will go live 5 minutes after midnight EDT on the day that section is supposed to be posted. Clicking on them earlier will only say Not Found, so you don’t get any previews. You can comment anytime directly on the blog if you wish to. 

I hope you all will read my “Save me a Story” tale and enjoy it. Here is the link for A – “Ask a Question,” which will begin on Saturday, April 1. https://www.hdhstory.net/Storyblog/?p=3434

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A Lunch Surprise

A Lunch Surprise

My friend John was visiting the city. He had been a very close friend. He left the city five years ago to become an executive director at a large company in D.C.  I continued as a teacher, living in New York. We hadn’t communicated much since he moved.  It was great getting together with him after all these years. 

I invited him out to lunch at our favorite restaurant on 5th Avenue. We talked a lot about our families and things we remembered from the past. Neither of us brought up our jobs. This was supposed to be a nice lunch. I’m sure his life as a director and mine as a high school teacher of delinquents wasn’t a topic that would raise our spirits. As we finished a wonderful lunch, John looked at his watch and said he had to go. There was an appointment he had to keep. As I was the one that had invited John to this lunch, I said I would pick up the check. He thanked me, said we should get together again soon, and then got up and left. 

The waiter came and gave me the check. He nodded at me, glanced at the check he had handed me, and left. 

I checked that the bill was in order and was about to put down cash for the meal when I noticed in small writing on the bottom of the bill. It was a curly arrow with the words turn over written below it. 

I turned over the bill and could not believe what I saw. Written on the back, in pencil, quite clearly, was my social security number with the message, “Meet me in the back parking lot.”

I looked around, but the waiter was nowhere in sight. Luckily, I had a pencil in my pocket, so I carefully erased the message and my social security number. I made sure no one could read it. Then I got up, worked my way outside, and cautiously approached the parking lot. I did not see anyone there.

I was about to leave when a car pulled beside me. The passenger window rolled down, and the driver (who happened to be the waiter) said, “Get in.”

I seriously thought about running away or pulling out my phone and calling the police, but then I remembered this guy had had my social security number; that’s not something you look up in a phone book or online. I needed to find out what was going on. So I entered his car, and he drove off. 

He didn’t drive very far. We ended up turning into an alley and stopping. I was very concerned about what was about to happen. 

He first took out a badge and an ID card and gave them to me. It said his name was Daniel Efram, and he worked for the FBI. 

I handed him back the ID and badge and asked, “How did you get my social number, and what do you want with me?”

He said, “Didn’t you read the ID? I work for the FBI, so getting your social number is just a matter of course. As to why I need you, that will be determined by whether or not I can trust you and whether or not you are willing to help our country. Now tell me about Harry and what you know of him.”

“Who’s Harry?” I asked.

“The guy you were having lunch with,” was his answer. 

Even more confused, I told Agent Efram all I knew about John and how we knew each other and had been friends.

“That’s good,” Efram said. “That could work in our favor.”

“What do you mean?” I again questioned. 

Agent Efram then went on to tell me who John or Harry really was. It seems he was a suspected agent of a foreign government. He had been sent here to spy on a special government weapons project. He was the director of a big company, but that company had ties with this foreign government. The FBI had no actual proof if or how he was involved. But his using a false name made his possible involvement more likely. They needed someone to get close to him that didn’t work for him to find out what was really going on. It turns out I was that guy. 

“But how am I supposed to do that?”

Agent Efram sounded confident when he said, “It’s simple. We’re going to transfer you to a new school in D.C. which happens to be near his company. He did say you both should get together soon. Well, getting this new job in D.C. should make that happen sooner than later. Then all you have to do is get to know him better. Find out whatever information you can and get it to us.” 

I was really skeptical. But as I hated my teaching job here, and the pay I would get at this new school was higher, with better benefits, what did I have to lose? I said yes. 

It would have been nice of the FBI to tell me they would deny any knowledge of me and what I was doing by accepting this assignment. It might have been written somewhere, but I never noticed it. Had I known, I might not have taken this assignment.

——

It’s been three months since I’ve worked here in D.C. John and I did rekindle our relationship. The more I asked him about his work, the more suspicious he must have become. For it wasn’t long before there was a knock at my door, and when I answered, two women stood there and asked to see my driver’s license. And once they verified who I was and showed me their IDs, I discovered both worked for the real FBI, as did John.

Now I’m being accused of working for a foreign power.  I wonder if I can get my old job back in New York. It’s much less confusing there. 

 

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A to Z Challenge Blog 2023 – Theme Reveal

A to Z Blog Challenge 2023 

Theme Reveal

In a writing group I attended, we were given a story prompt and had 20 minutes to write a story to share. When I finished sharing my story, several participants suggested that I use that story as an introduction to a series of connected stories. I decided to take them up on their suggestion. What follows is the revised story I wrote that day as an introduction to the rest of my A to Z Blog Challenge for 2023. In the end, it will be a complete tale. This is my eighth year doing the Challenge and my first attempt to use all the alphabet letters as part of one story.

Save me a Story

The door opens, and I look into the eye of the mystic I was directed to. Why you may ask? Well, it all started when I woke up this morning.

I had been dreaming I was in a car. Dawn was approaching. As the sun began to rise, sunshine hit the front of the car I was in, and I was blinded, so I pulled off the road and stopped the car. I got out, and standing there was a woman. She stood about 5 foot 6 and had short blond hair and eyes that were vivid green. She stared straight at me. Her eyes were what attracted me, or should I say mesmerized me. 

She said only a few words. It was an address and a request that I go there. Then she turned and walked away. 

Under normal circumstances, I would mark her as a crazy lady or another one of my vivid dreams, but the look she gave me bewitched me. So when I woke up, well… here I am.

The mystic asked me to sit down. I realized this mystic was the woman I had seen in my dreams. 

“I asked you here for a reason,” she said. “I am the gateway to any number of kingdoms. And you are needed in one of them.”

Not knowing what she was talking about, I asked, “Why me? And what kingdom?”

Her answer was quick, ”Because it has been foretold, and it is the kingdom of Selat.”

This did not make it any clearer. “What do you mean….”

She stopped me before I could finish my question. “You are a bearer of tales, are you not?”

I nodded yes.

“In Selat, all the stories that have existed have been stolen. Therefore it is your task to discover where they have been taken to and to bring them back. What has happened in Selat also threatens your world. Once stories are gone, there is no history, no learning from generation to generation; there is no true existence.”

I didn’t know how to respond, and she sensed that. So she said only one thing. 

“Just do it!”

And she disappeared, as did everything else around me. I found myself alone in an uninhabited village in this new kingdom called Selat.

Where to begin…?

————–

And so begins my journey. Who will I meet? Where are the stories? What obstacles will I face? Will I get assistance? Will I succeed? 

All will hopefully be revealed by the end of the Challenge. We’ll start on April 1st with Ask a Question and end on April 30 with Zeitgeist. Hope to see you there. 

Posted in A to Z Blog Challenge 2023, Original Stories, Writing | Tagged , | 10 Comments

But it’s Magic

But it’s Magic

“It’s magic,” he says. 

“No, it’s not! I saw you push the switch,” was my reply. “What makes you think that you can fool me like that?”

“I’m not fooling you. It really is magic.”

We were at a standoff. This happens all of the time. I’m the adult, and he is the child. I don’t know how to convince him that when he pushes the switch and the lights turn on, they are connected to the switch and electricity, which completes the circuit that turns them on and off. 

“Then I’ll try it a different way,” he shouts. “I’ll use my magic word.” He closes his eyes and calls out, “SIRI, dim the lights.”

 And the lights begin to dim. “See, I told you, it’s magic.”

“No, again. Our Apple Homepod responds to the S-word and activates the wireless signal to dim the lights. It’s not magic!”

It would appear that nothing I can say will convince this child that there is no magic and that everything is connected somehow to technological advancements in science. 

“Okay,” I say, “Make something happen that is not in this room, like make a phone ring in the kitchen.”

I watch as he closes his eyes tight and mumbles something I can’t quite understand. The next thing I hear is the phone ringing in the kitchen.

“What?… Wait a minute.” I go to the kitchen and pick up the phone. It is the wrong number. I go back to the living room and confront him again.

“That was just a coincidence,” I say.

“No, it’s not,” he replies.

I’m getting tired of this game. “I quit,” I grumble, rather frustrated, “If you think it’s magic, then so it is. But you’re never going to get me to believe it. I’m a scientist. I’m going back to my workroom to read a book.” 

I looked at him. He had a mysterious smile on his face. He closed his eyes and again mumbled something that I couldn’t quite understand, and the next thing that happened, I found myself sitting in a chair in my workroom with a book in my hand.”

The title of the book was The Art of Magic.

“What the…?”

 

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In into the Cold or What could possibly go wrong?

In into the Cold or What could possibly go wrong?

Did you ever find yourself in a walk-in freezer, and someone closes the door behind you? Finding oneself in a freezer with no light and access to an exit can be a frightening experience. Had I known that this would be where I’d end up, I probably would not have entered the freezer, to begin with. 

I’ve seen Rocky before. You know, in the scene where he needs to get in shape for an upcoming fight, he goes into a butcher’s freezer and starts punching all the hanging meats. He’s only wearing a hooded sweatshirt for warmth. How hard could that be?

While the butcher’s back was turned, I slipped into the back, found the freezer, opened it, and got inside. It was lighted then. I looked around for an appropriate hanging torso to punch. Well, it turns out there is none. 

Before I can turn around to leave, the door shuts, the lights go out, and I am trapped in a freezer, blind due to a total lack of light, and unable to get out. 

Unlike Rocky, I at least have the sense to be wearing a warmer jacket. However, that does not prevent me from feeling the cold slowly seeping in. 

Were you ever so cold that you thought that packing raw meat on your body would make you warmer? I can tell you for a fact that it doesn’t. Well, I think it doesn’t. First, it was hard to see what I was packing on my body in the dark, but it felt like raw meat. 

Needless to say, I was sure I would freeze to death when I heard the door open, and there was a flash of brightness as the lights in the freezer came on. 

Were you ever caught by the butcher’s assistant standing in a cold freezer, covered in a goop that must be used to clean freezers?

“WHAT THE ….?” came the voice of said assistant. 

Let’s just say that I was escorted out of my present predicament, through the store of waiting customers, out onto the street, whereupon I had to find my way home. 

Did you ever try to get a cab or take a bus covered in smelly slime so you could find your way home? It turns out you can’t. 

I had to find someone to let me call using their phone so that I could get picked up.  Luckily my friend Ronald was home to help. After all, this whole thing was his idea. 

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