Honorable Mention – Cat karma
The circle of life takes a fortuitous turn
by Georgette Gantner
The last thing I remember is the deafening noise and the wind pushing me back against the curb, the strong current created by the shiny giant things flashing by, bigger than anything I’d ever seen before, so many of them moving by on a grassless expanse of a hard, dark surface that that was so wide, it made my family look as tiny as mice.
They had made it safely to the other side, calling to me, trying to get me to cross over. As usual, I was last, born last, the smallest, the slowest, finding more importance in the flight of a butterfly than my own safety. I’d wanted to remain where I was, but where we lived wasn’t safe. I was afraid to follow them, but I knew that if I didn’t, I would be left alone and that frightened me more.
I was too young to be left alone. I knew if I waited too long, they would leave without me, their lives in as much danger as mine, needing to move to the safe place that only one of us knew about. Unless I made a move, I would be lost forever. The noise made by these swift giants hurt my ears, yet I was still able to hear my family calling me. I squeezed my eyes closed, and hoped if I wished hard enough, I wouldn’t be alone anymore.
When I opened them, I was still alone, but it had grown quiet. Were the shiny things done? I couldn’t see them anymore, but then I could no longer see my family either. Had they become tired of waiting? Panic and desperation surged through me. I had to decide what to do and do it now. I pushed myself against the curb and waited for the fear to leave, waiting for the courage to arrive. With all my strength, I hurled myself forward and took off as fast as my tiny legs could carry me.
I could hear my family calling, cheering, encouraging me to keep going. There was nothing in my way, and I knew I’d make it. In my very short life, I’d never moved this fast before, and in that second, I felt strong and brave as I scampered across. But the surface was wet and slippery, and I had so far to go. My legs hurt, and I was growing weak. I stumbled, fell and rolled. In the distance, I could hear the roaring, and I knew more of the giants were coming. I saw them, small at first, but growing bigger as they came closer.
I tried standing up so I could run again. If I kept moving, I’d be all right, I thought. I might have been, but my fear returned. Instead of moving, I froze. All I could do was close my eyes and hope to wish it away. Then I heard the squealing sound. The fast thing was screaming at me. Was it angry or trying to tell me to run? I gathered myself up to move, but I’d waited too long. I felt a dull thud against my side as the giant struck me and threw me high into the air, flying for what seemed like an eternity, flying high above my family who watched me, still waiting. I thought that I might fly to them, but instead, I continued to float upwards.
Below me, I saw my body land on the pavement and not moving. I felt no pain. I watched my family as they wandered closer to my lifeless body. They looked frightened and sad. One of them sniffed and backed away. They knew. Many of the shiny giants slowed to look at me, but no one stopped. One of them saw my family, and called to them, but they backed away. Because of me, they were now in danger. They found a nearby field, and I watched them escape under a fence. Then there was nothing. I was dead. Driving down Hawthorne, she spied something lying in the street, a small furry shape. At first, she thought it was a hat but recognized it as something that used to be alive. Perhaps it was still alive? It appeared to be peacefully napping, untouched and undesecrated by the vehicles that swerved to avoid it. Not able to slow down, she made a u-turn at the next street, then turned left and drove in the same lane where it lay, stopped and flashed on the emergency blinkers.
She grabbed a cardboard box filled with clothes meant for donation, and dumped them all onto the back
seat, except for a blouse. She’d liked that blouse, and now it could serve a noble purpose. She carefully stepped out of the car and into traffic. One glance told her the cat was gone, just like anyone knows after something has died. Death had already come to call, turning off the light of recognition, covering it with a mask.
She knelt down and gently wrapped her blouse around the tiny kitten, and placed it in the box, which she sat next to her on the passenger seat. She was glad the animal looked relatively untouched, preserving its self-respect in the afterlife. It was important that she carry him where he needed to be.
A half-hour later, she’d dug a proper hole in her backyard, deep enough so that the night animals wouldn’t find him. Over the years, she had cared for many animals and they were at peace here now. This was a lovely place where fruit trees shaded the forget-me-nots and the bird bath and a small pond that once held fish but now mostly served as a swimming pool for raccoons.
Everything grew alongside a winding brick path that led to a house with a screen door that whined when it was opened and banged shut when it closed, always three times, before it lay still against the bright red wooden frame. There was a rhythm to it, and the woman loved the concept of rhythm, in her daily routine, in music, with the animals that visited at night, in life, and death. The door’s sound was oddly reassuring. Years ago when she was still spontaneous, she’d painted the house purple, the trim a bright magenta. At first, this caused an uproar with the neighbors, but eventually they got used to it, just like they got used to her quirky ways. Over time, they mellowed.
She decided to bury the kitten near her peach tree which produced a superior sweet and juicy yellow fruit, with the most fragrant blossoms, a scent like jasmine. But, now, in November, spring was a long way off. In the meantime, the cat could rest
here. Still wrapped in her blouse, she placed him there, and blessed him with the wish that his next cat life would be better than this first one.
Where was I? It was dark and I was afraid. I tried to open my eyes but couldn’t. It was quiet but I could feel the presence of others who gently bumped against me. This happened over and over again. I had a vague memory of something. I’d been floating. I was floating now, weighless, shapeless. I was warm. I wasn’t breathing. Time went by and by and on and on, as did the darkness. Gradually, I began to realize that the space for which I was contained began to grow smaller and the things that were around me began growing larger until we were as one. Then, there was discomfort, there was pressure, and a sense of urgency, that this thing that had been, would soon be over, that we couldn’t remain where we were.
The quiet we had known was giving way to something else, a sound of something we hadn’t heard before. There was movement, a freeing of space, of the things next to me moving into somewhere else. I suddenly felt myself pulled violently from nothing into the light. I was born.
Something pushed us together again, a nurturing presence, guiding me toward a warm substance, and somehow I knew how to drink and I never wanted this happiness to go away. The others were there too, struggling and pushing against me, but I wouldn’t allow it. I knew what I had to do to survive. We were a gathering of beings who made sounds, who heard cries that were us, at first unfamiliar, sounds for which I would soon recognize as comfort, warning, updates, communication, and love.
We lived under the stairs of a place that smelled good. Mother told us that they made food for people, and that soon, we would also want to eat this food. But acquiring it was dangerous. Mother loved us and did the best she could, but there were so many of us to feed. One day, we were discovered. It was while Mother had left our nest. The person who discovered us tried putting us in a box to take us to someplace I didn’t know, so I needed to get away. By now I’d grown strong, and knew how to fight. My claws were sharp, so when I struck, the box was dropped and most of us escaped. Because we ran in different directions, I never saw my family again.
I was too busy trying to survive, running away, looking for food, and trying to find someplace to rest, sometimes up a tree, on top of a roof, or in an abandoned burrow. One day, I found a street. It had tall fences I climbed, where I could see things others couldn’t. I saw shiny metal giant things that moved slowly and often slept. There were so many houses on this street. I found a house that didn’t look like the others, painted with colors that were different. I liked it. The gate was open. The yard had many trees, and one in particular smelled sweet. I sat under it and grew very tired, so I curled up in the tall grass and fell into a deep sleep. When I woke, it was dark, but I was not afraid. The warm light from the house spilled out onto the bricks, turning them gold, and I moved closer and looked inside. I made that sound that I always make when I want something. The woman heard me. When she opened the screen door, I heard it whine, then bang, three times before stopping to rest. She saw me, sat down and waited. I felt safe. I walked to her and pressed my head against her hand. “You’re back”, she said. I didn’t know what she said. I was home.
Honorable Mention – The Tempest
Prospero returns for revenge to the Comedy & Magic Club
by J.E. Marshall
On the roof of the Comedy & Magic Club in Hermosa Beach, security spied a curious vessel offshore.
“Well, that may be, but it looks like the actual Space Yacht, “The Caliban.” The security officer reported to the richest man on earth, CEO Alonso, who was celebrating the arranged marriage of his daughter and was already calculating who his son Ferdinand must wed. His problem was that Ferdinand was convinced he was in love with an online fantasy he played video games with every day. Now security was telling him that a man who used to be the richest man in the world, a man he helped murder, had returned from the dead and was parked offshore.
Alonso tapped his attorney, Gonzalo, on the shoulder and motioned for him to follow him. He gathered his brother Sebastian and Prospero’s brother Antonio. The men left the lively, private party and headed for the roof to see for themselves if it was really the space yacht that they had rigged to blow up with Prospero on it.
Gonzalo looked ill. He carried a secret for 12 years. He had not done his part. He pretended to sabotage the vessel but in fact installed the latest AI software to help Prospero, his three-year-old daughter Miranda, and the brilliant planetary engineer, Caliban, as well as the crew survive. He secretly loaded personal effects and cargo they would need because he believed that if they survived, they would remain in hiding and never return.
“If this is somebody’s idea of a joke, it’s not funny,” Sebastian nudged Antonio.
“I don’t see anything! How can you see anything in this?” Gonzalo hung onto Alonso as rogue gusts of wind batted them about.
“This storm didn’t brew. It wasn’t and then it was!” Security screamed over the sound of splitting wood.
Meanwhile, back at the party, the original 1939 “Please Stand by” test pattern replaced the wedding video. But instead of the sound of static, an instrumental crescendo of “Hotel California” drum rolls looped. By and by a transparent spirit appeared on the stage.
“I am A.I. I am real. I am Aireal.” The image sprouted massive wings and vanished.
The Comedy Club building groaned and creaked and became airborne. The men on the roof screamed over each other.
“There is a 100 foot wave coming right at us!”
“It’s coming from behind!”
“It’s coming from all sides!
“That’s impossible!”
“It’s a whirlpool!”
“We’re going up, not down!”
They were silenced by the spectacle of a laughing man on a surfboard circling the building. The man morphed into a terrible shark, then sprouted oily black wings and flew over and round the men, snapping at their heels while making threats and insults.
“It’s a trash talking harpy shark! Go below! Lock the doors!” Security screamed. Before anyone could move, the building cracked open, and everyone blew off in different directions. Then the building crashed onto RAT Beach, Right After Torrance Beach. Ferdinand crawled from the wreckage. He was all alone.
“Where is everyone?” Ferdinand cried out.
“So, you think you are in love with my daughter, do you?” A huge pelican walked beside Ferdinand and motioned to the gray sky where an image of Miranda moving chess pieces was displayed.
“We are in love.” Ferdinand professed.
“You must work for me and earn my trust. Prove your loyalty.” The pelican replied.
“What would you have me do?”
“Move this wreckage to the parking lot on top of the cliff.” The pelican demanded and disappeared.
Without complaining Ferdinand started carrying the comedy club, bit by bit, up the steep path. He had no way of knowing that his love was Miranda, daughter of Prospero. He only knew her by her online gamers name and her profile picture.
Further down the beach, Trinculo, a comedian hired by Alonso, and Stephano, Alonso’s alcoholic limo driver, sat on a boulder sharing a joint. A red dinghy glided onto the shore and a monster carrying a headless pelican walked towards them.
“I am Caliban. I used to be a man. Prospero took everything I am, my ideas, my land. He experimented on me and made me his slave. He will do this to you too.”
“Not if we kill him first!” Stephano was so drunk he lost all perspective.
“You would help me kill him?” Caliban was pleased.
“Lead the way!” Trinculo chimed in.
“He is wearing a disguise.” Caliban said.
“What does he look like?” Stephano asked.
“We must bite the head off of every pelican on this beach.” Caliban yelled his battle cry.
Further down the beach Alonso, his brother Sebastian, Prospero’s brother Antonio and Alonso’s attorney Gonzalo broke into a lifeguard station to get out of the rain.
“You must rest, Alonso. We combed every inch of this beach. Ferdinand is nowhere to be found. He must have been washed out to sea.” Antonio feigned concern for Alonso while thinking of how he could kill him. If his brother Prospero was still alive, it was Alonso’s fault.
Aireal filled the air with strange sounds that made the men very sleepy. Antonio stuffed seaweed pods into his ears and pretended to fall asleep. When all the men were snoring, Antonio quietly woke up Sebastian and took him down to the shore to convince him that they had to kill Alonso and Gonzalo because they were senile and on the verge of confessing.
“What if Prospero isn’t dead?” Sebastian agreed to help kill his own brother but worried that Antonio’s brother was still alive.
“Then we must kill him and make sure he’s dead this time.” Antonio insisted. They each found a large rock and prepared to bash in the heads of Alonso and Gonzalo.
The soothing sounds were replaced by screeching seagulls. Gonzalo woke up and pulled Alonso close to him just before Antonio thrust the rock down.
“There was a sea snake! I scared it away before it could harm you!” Antonio’s lie was unbelievably lame.
Meanwhile, Alonso’s security officer swam out to the space yacht to question the crew. No one was on board, but he found the captain’s log. It chronicled Prospero’s descent into madness. At first it seemed like an adventure. Professor Caliban convinced Prospero that success was the best revenge, that they would begin planetary engineering on Mars earlier than scheduled.
Prospero called himself the Emperor of Mars and enjoyed the isolation. Caliban taught Prospero everything he knew about the planet and made great strides in engineering, partially due to the fine equipment Gonzalo had smuggled on board. The AI was very lively and once Prospero got the hang of it, he used it to torment and cripple Caliban for lusting after his 15-year-old daughter Miranda. Caliban asserted that he and Miranda would people Mars with little Calibans. The captain’s log indicated that the captain feared that he was in danger when he saw what Prospero did to Caliban. Prospero used AI to come up with experiments that would all but kill Caliban, render him unable to father children and turn him into a hideous looking monster. Prospero also used AI to create a virus that would enslave everyone on earth. He called it the Prospero Virus because it was like a microscopic version of himself that would allow him to yammer ceaselessly inside the infected person’s head and drive them mad if they did not do his bidding. Prospero named the AI Aireal and watched it like a hawk for fear it would outgrow him and cease to obey him. Aireal warned the captain that Prospero was insane. This was the last entry in the captain’s log, and it was dated two years ago.
The security officer knew he had to go back to shore as soon as possible and warn everyone.
Meanwhile Ferdinand was still carrying chunks of the shattered Comedy Club up the steep path. He stopped to catch his breath and checked to see if his phone was working yet. It was. He immediately contacted the love of his life. She was moody and said she didn’t want to play video games anymore. He said he just wanted to talk to her. She said she didn’t feel like talking. She got up to walk away from her laptop. He had never seen her standing before. She was clearly very pregnant. Ferdinand was so shocked and exhausted that he passed out. He woke up on the floor of the Comedy Club to the sound of Antonio screaming that thousands of sea snakes were chasing him. Everyone and everything were back in place with no sign of the damage done during the night except for the shell-shocked faces.
“Turn on the news!” Someone shouted.
There was no mention of the storm of the century on any channel. Ferdinand ran outside. The sun hurt his eyes. He grabbed the first person he saw and asked how the storm damage had been repaired so fast.
“What storm?” the mailman asked.
