I am posting pages from my latest book, available at the Book Shelf, on Mission St., Mt. Pleasant. For more information click HERE.








The second traveler, one Hoist Petard, a metal smith, told of a far-off land where all the days were clear and sunny, the nights were spangled with stars, and everyone ate cake and honey. Unfortunately, this diet caused them all to suffer from gout, and the doctors made a fortune. Petard swore it was true.

Alley Openhiemer, a wheelwright, told the third story also set in a faraway place where it was always winter. The penguins were very fussy about raising their chicks. When a mother wanted to feed, she slid her egg onto the feet of the father. When she returned, the father rolled the egg onto her feet, and he went to feed. Unfortunately, an orca convention met in that very faraway place and ate the eggs and the fathers; and when they returned, the mothers as well. Orcas always leave best for last.

Shiraz Merlot, a wine merchant, told the next tale about a great stone through which an ornate sword protruded. Many men tried to pull the sword from the stone, but none could accomplish the task. One day, a mawkish oaf came by and, seeing the stone with the sword in it, pulled out the sword as if from taffy. Throwing the sword to one side, he said, “I’ve been looking for a stone like this forever so long a time.” Merlot admitted he was the oaf. Reaching in his vest pocket, he took out a chip of the stone to verify his story.

Shellby Baksoon, a puppeteer, promised an absolutely true story—he had witnessed it. The fifth story involved a wizard who claimed to be able to break any spell cast by a witch. People flocked to him, paying any price, to break this or that curse. He made the lame walk, the blind see, the crooked straight, the silent speak again. All were cured except the last to visit him—a child claimed to be an eighty-year-old man upon whom a spell was cast that made him into a child. “Why would you want to be old again?” puzzled the wizard. “Because I learned that life is meant to be suffered through, and now I must go through it all again.” The wizard offered, “The witch who cast this spell on you would cast it on me if I help you. Be gone. Play with the boys in the fields of youth.”

Elysium Magpie, a court reporter, ordered another round of stout. She began the sixth tale involving a fly that had been swallowed by a spider, which had,
in turn, been swallowed by a bird. The bird had been swallowed by a cat, which then was swallowed by a dog. The dog had been swallowed by a tiger, and the tiger had been swallowed by a whale. Now deep inside the spider, the fly began to buzz, causing the spider to laugh so hard it spit out the fly. The spider shuddered while evicting the fly, which caused the bird to regurgitate the spider and flutter its wings. The fluttering wings made the cat upset, so it cast out the bird and extended its claws, scratching the dog’s stomach. Yelping in pain, the dog released the cat. Doing so made it bark and bite. The tiger did not enjoy being bitten, so it released the dog. The tiger was so moody it started running in circles inside the whale. All this commotion was too much for the whale, who beached the fly, the spider, the bird, the cat, the dog, and the tiger upon the yellow ochre sand at the edge of the restless sea, each then going its own way. The moral, children, is to chew your food thoroughly before you swallow.

John Narrowpath would not be outdone by these tall tale tellers. He ordered up another round of stout and began, “When I was very young, I lived near the Mystic Carousel. It had mythical creatures one could ride on as the Carousel spun. This was on a world within another world, which revolved about a single sun. The stars there were bright and made curious pictures in the sky. If the storm outside were not so fearsome, we could go outside and look at the stars. They have changed since I was young, and we live on a world within a world circling two suns.”

Everyone laughed. “All right, John Narrowpath,” Fiesta chortled, “yours is the tallest tale of the lot. Gentlemen, please finish your drinks. The bar is closed.”

The next morning after a pleasant breakfast, John and his jackalopes continued south. As he crested a small hill late in the afternoon, he saw in the distance a monastery, bathed by the slanting rays of the twin stars of Sirius. The rays highlighted the towers, steeple, ramparts, and a small village clustered by the outer walls as if seeking for warmth against the drifting snow.



For earlier pages go to PAGES.