2 Minutes to Midnight (16 page)

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Authors: Steve Lang

Tags: #sci fi short stories, #sci fi fantasy, #sci fi action adventure, #sci fi anthology, #sci fi adult, #sci fi and apocalyptic, #sci fi about aliens

BOOK: 2 Minutes to Midnight
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"I've never met an earth man like you
before, and your friendship is payment enough. You also helped my
wife when she was shot, so you've made a friend of hers for
life."
"Can I come back sometime?"
"When we have peace in our world, you may return. I had no idea we
would be attacked while you were there. This war is so unreal." Gaz
lowered his head. "I will check in on you from time to time
though."

Gaz embraced George without warning, a
sentiment he returned with affection. George closed his eyes, and
when he opened them, Gaz was gone and he was alone in the forest. A
curious squirrel had watched the entire episode from a tree, and
would have quite a story to tell his mate that night. George could
hear his friends calling him far above through the woods, and he
felt a renewed sense of Thanksgiving. This year would be all the
more special. Thanks to the Given.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

mirror world

 

 

Tom Cook purchases a dream
house for he and his wife, but when tragedy strikes will the house
allow them to stay together?

Tom Cook became overwhelmed with
excitement as he hung up the phone with his realtor Debra Duncan.
He could not wait to tell his wife Sandra that they were now the
proud owners of their very own home, just outside Charleston, SC.
The two had wanted a larger place than their one bedroom apartment
and what Tom found was a beautiful old farmhouse painted white,
with blue wooden shutters at the end of a long lane of magnolias.
All he knew about the house was that the original owner had built
it in eighteen sixty-five and it had been a cotton plantation. The
price was fifty thousand dollars out of their price range, but he
had fallen in love with it and was willing to bite the bullet.
Since Sandra was away on business the decision to purchase the home
had rested on his shoulders. Against all reason Tom bought the
fifty-acre fixer-upper, and took on the extra debt. Sure, Sandra
would probably experience some sticker shock, he thought, but when
she got settled in she would realize that this was the right
decision, and a great place to start their family. His certainty
was rock solid, until she answered the phone in San
Francisco.
"Hi sweetie! How’d the house buying adventure go? You got us a
great piece of property in a neighborhood close to town, right?"
Sandra chimed.
He was careful not to pause too long.
"Well, sort of." He was nowhere close to nonchalant. "I’ll tell you
what. You’re definitely going to be surprised on Sunday when I pick
you up from the airport! It went really, really well. How’s San
Francisco?" He replied.
There was a pause on her end, and his stomach tightened with
dread.
"San Francisco’s great. Tom, please tell me you bought in a nice
neighborhood. We’re not in a slum, right?" She sounded
worried.
"No honey, we’re not in a slum; in fact I think you’re going to
love the place. There’s plenty of room to raise a family," he
said.
"Whew! OK, good. I trust you, and I can’t wait to get home so we
can have a nice glass of wine together."
He had taken the week off from work, and had scheduled movers to
arrive early Friday morning, which would give him just enough time
to put their bedroom and living room together before Sandra
arrived. Judging from the size of the house and what little they
had to bring from their apartment he felt like the house might
swallow them whole, but that was a thought he would put a pin in
for now.
"I’ll see you Sunday morning, and then we’ll celebrate." Tom
smiled.
"Sounds good, I love you," said Sandra.
"I love you, too. Have an awesome rest of the week out there!" He
kissed the phone and hung up.
The next morning Tom signed all of the remaining documents, and his
life away, right before the real estate agent gave him his keys to
the house.
"I’m sure you'll have a wonderful life in that house, Tom. It’s got
so much, history!" Debra chirped. History? He thought with
curiosity, but said nothing.
After leaving Debra, Tom decided to stay the night in their new
house, but first he had to go get a mattress and their German
Sheppard, Barney. He was an excellent watchdog and family
friend.
"It's going to grow on you," he muttered to himself.
He and Barney arrived at the new place at around noon and almost as
soon as Tom walked through the door his cell phone began to ring
from an unknown number.
"This is Tom," he answered.
"Hello, Tom! My name is Jeanette Parker, and I know you don't know
me, but I'm a paranormal investigator and I think I can help you
with your new house."
"I appreciate the call, but I think I'm fine." Tom said.
"There are some things you don't know." Jeanette said.
"Alright, I appreciate your help, really, but I don't need a
paranormal investigator. Have a great day, and thanks again for the
call." Tom hung up before she could say anything else and promptly
forgot their conversation.
Tom and Barney entered the empty house and began to explore each
old room. Old floorboards creaked in places, and he noted that a
new floor would need to be installed. As he walked he imagined what
would go where. Almost every room was bare with the exception of a
larger room toward the back of his new home. Custom mahogany
bookcases lined the room from floor to ceiling in what could only
have been a library. The only wall without a case was to the left
of entry and a large ornate mirror hung on it, which was yellowed
with age. Tom admired the mirror with a smile, and as he stood in
front of it he could see the beautifully crafted bookshelves behind
him.
"Now, I finally have a place to store all of my books. Well, the
one box of books I own, that is." He laughed to Barney.
Tom suddenly felt a cold streak of fear slide up his spine. Another
laugh had echoed his. Had he imagined it? Slowly, he turned and saw
a smiling man in a charcoal grey Hugo Boss dress suit. This man was
wearing a fedora hat, the type worn by men in the nineteen forties
and a kind expression on his face. The nameless man took a bow,
straightened, and vanished just before rounding the hallway corner.
Tom felt his breath return, and sat down with his back against the
wall. Instead of fear he felt a kind of wild exhilaration from his
experience. Had he made contact with someone from the other side?
If so, it had not been scary or negative like the movie
Poltergeist. This was more like seeing the friendly old guys from
Cocoon. Then he thought of Sandra, who might not be so engaged with
his newly found contact with the spirit world. If she knew about
what he had seen she would not spend one night in this house. He
reached for the cell phone and redialed the last number who called
him, Jeanette Parker.
"Hi Jeanette, I wanted to apologize for my rudeness earlier. It
turns out that we may need to meet after all," he said. Paul felt a
sheepish embarrassment, and knew his face was red.
"It's OK Tom; this is not the first time this has happened. You
live in a special house, and if you treat this experience with
respect I think you and the others will have a great time living
there together." Jeanette said.
"Others?"
"You want me to come over and explain?" Jeanette asked.
"Yes, like ten minutes ago. Please do and maybe we can have dinner
together and talk. I've already signed my life away for the house,
and my wife is going to flip out when she finds out about this, and
not in a good way either."
"I'll be over at seven. You bring wine, and I'll bring dinner."
Jeanette said.
Jeanette brought a pizza, and then she and Tom proceeded to have
one of the strangest conversations he would ever have with another
human.
"Tom, what were you told about the house before you bought?"
Jeanette asked.
"Nothing other than that it was a plantation during the eighteen
hundreds. Isn’t there some kind of a disclosure clause or something
that implies I should be notified if my house may be haunted? It
should have been mentioned, right?" Tom was puzzled.
"Technically, unless a murder or something like that happens within
three years of a sale, no. You could take them to court to get your
money back, but I honestly don’t think that’s going to be
necessary. Proving your house is haunted in a court of law will be
difficult anyway."
Tim shook his head slowly from side to side.
"Your house is an interdimensional portal, or a gateway between
worlds. It was purposely built on the thirty-third parallel by a
confederate fraternity who had a fascination with the afterlife and
supernatural influence on the living world,” she explained.
"This is a joke, right? Who were they, Masons?"
"I'm not sure. But the entities passing through your house respond
to the energy you give off. Positivity is reciprocated, as is
anger. Have you seen one, yet?" She asked.
"An old guy in a hat. I saw him in the library when I was checking
out the house. One minute I was alone, and the next--poof--there he
was. The guy just smiled at me, bowed and then disappeared." Tom
answered.
She went on about what a great sign it was that the spirits we
welcoming him in, but all Tom could think about was how much Sandra
was going to freak out when she was brushing her teeth and
something from the beyond popped out of their shower. The two
talked for several hours and he got a better understanding of what
to expect. Jeanette explained that there had been many families who
had found out about the house, met some of the transient spirits,
and sold right away. Tom did not want to lose the equity he had in
his house only a day after closing on it, so he decided that he
would confront Sandra with the truth on their way home Sunday. If
he told her their house was haunted while she was in San Francisco
she might never return.
That night as Tom slept soundly, he began to see a white light
beyond his closed lids, and when he opened them Sandra was standing
beside the bed. Her face soft, serene, and her smile was welcoming.
She was home, but how?
"Hi Tom. I've missed you," she said.
"Uhhh, wha,... hi, yeah, me too. How'd you get home so fast?
"Come here." Sandra whispered.
She grabbed his hand and he rose from bed as Little Wing, by Jimmy
Hendrix began to play somewhere in the house.
Sandra wanted to dance, so he complied and she held him closer than
she ever had. There was something indefinable about her passion.
Sandra was usually so reserved, but as they began to sway her arms
held him as if she would never see him again. He welcomed her
embrace and the two were joined as one while music filled his head.
He felt himself leave the floor as they swirled together, their
souls entwined for a moment in time that neither would
forget.
"I don't have much time," she whispered.
"What do you mean..."
"Shhhh, no talking," she said.
Once the music ended Sandra took his hand in hers and led him to
the library.
"I don't remember what happened in San Francisco, but I do know
that I won't be able to stay with you. Look." She pointed toward
the mirror.
The mirror now resembled a painting and looked amazingly realistic.
It was his house and there were people moving about performing
various tasks on the now working farm. Through her vision he saw
sweeping hills and valleys, untouched rivers where waters were
sweet and pure. Tom wanted to be there.
"You can't some with me now, but from time to time, if you think
about me I'll stop in and we can dance together." Sandra squeezed
his hand.
"But, why can't I come?" Tom was puzzled, confused. Was this a
dream?
"It's not time. Tom, I want you to love again, have a long life,
and raise your family in our house. You will always be welcome.
When your time comes I'll be here and we can move on together." She
kissed him on the cheek and turned to go.
After Tom woke groggily from his slumber he remembered Sandra
gliding through the mirror into a field of wild flowers. She walked
slowly toward their mirror world house, and disappeared.
Later that day, Tom received a call from a police detective in San
Francisco informing him that his wife had been killed when the
structural supports of a bridge she had been on collapsed. Sandra
had plummeted into the bay and drowned before rescue workers could
get to her. The detective gave his condolences and hung up. The
dream came back to him and he sat down hard dropping the
phone.
"It's OK, Tom. You're in shock now, but crossing over is part of
life. We all do it. You just have an opportunity to commune with us
before your time to move on comes. A word of caution though. Don't
forget you're alive. This place can...absorb you, if you allow it,"
came an unseen voice.
Tom turned and the old man in the charcoal grey suit, and fedora
was sitting about half way up the stairs, still smiling kindly.
Although Tom did see Sandra frequently, and the two shared many
moonlight dances, he followed her wishes and did love again,
married, and raised two children in their home. One night, when the
years had passed, his kids were all grown, and it was time, Sandra
escorted him through the mirror and their adventure
continued.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the legend of

lightning foot jenkins

 

 

This is the tale of a famous blues man,
named Lightning Foot Jenkins from the 1930's in America's deep
south, and how he came to be.

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