Category Archives: NOVEL WRITING

March 8, 2022 · 3:04 pm

He Rose on a Golden Wing… Canto 6


Chopin – Polonaise in G Minor
 
Needless to say, Valerie missed school again on Friday.  Everybody, even Mom, talked to her like she was an unexploded bomb all that day.  Except for Dilsey Murphy when she called.
“Val?  Do I need to get somebody else as a sitter?”
“Well…”
“You know you already told me you would.  I’m sorry you had a bad night last night, but this is too short of a notice.  I don’t think I can get anybody else.  You wouldn’t want to mess up Tim’s whole love life, would you?”
Well, she had to seriously think about that one for a second.  But then it made her laugh.
“No.  I seriously want you to tame the wild beast for me.  And besides, I was looking forward to playing games with Troy Zeffer and reading books to him and stuff.”
“Thank you.  I owe you a big one after this.”
“Well, wait and see how you feel about it after an evening with Tim.  You may curse me after that.”
It was Dilsey’s turn to laugh.  “Thanks, Val.  You’re the best.”
“I know.”
Her life was basically destroyed and she would have to live with having a nervous breakdown in front of her worst enemy.  And she had destroyed Uncle Dash too.  How was she ever going to make things up to him?   But talking with Dilsey had definitely been helpful.  It was good that Dils had not let her get away with anything, just because of a little old world-ending meltdown and depression.
The next day she showed up right on time at the Zeffer house.
Pat Zeffer met her at the door before she even knocked.
“Ah, hello, Valerie.  I’m so glad you could make it tonight… in spite of…”
“Oh, you heard about it?”
“I’m sorry, dear.  I know you probably don’t want to talk about it.  In fact, are you sure you are up for this tonight?”
“Actually, I need this.”
“Well, please come on in.  You know, Troy was excited when he learned you would be his sitter for tonight.  You know how much he loves you.”
“Well, I love him too.  Very much.  He looks so much like Ray.”
“Oh, you think so too?”
“Of course.  He has Ray’s dark-chocolate eyes and adorable dimples.”
The comment made Pat smile and draw in a deep breath before letting out a small sigh.
“It makes me ache in my heart to look at him sometimes,” the doting grandmother said.  They both moved into the compact little living room and seated themselves together on the couch.
“It seems like forever since Ray’s been missing,” Valerie said carefully.
“Ah, yes.  That…”
“Has anybody ever found a clue to…?”
“No.  Never.  He has disappeared as completely as if he was never born.”
Valerie swallowed what might’ve come out as a sob.  This old woman knew how she felt about Ray, but she did not want to add to any burdens.  Ray had simply vanished shortly after Troy was born.  No ransom or suicide notes.  No goodbyes.  He didn’t take the car.  Or any money.  Or anything that Pat or the police could determine.
His mother had always said, “An angel must have took him straight to Heaven, like Elijah.”
But the truth was probably far more sinister than that.
Anyway, little Troy came waddling in with his toy tiger in hand.  On seeing Valerie, he dropped the toy and gave her a big hug.  She then pulled him onto her lap and cuddled him a little.
“Valerie, I know what happened at the father/daughter dance.  I would understand if you need me to cancel my plans with Roy Withers in Clarion tonight.  In fact, I’m available to talk to if you need a friend to talk to about losing loved ones.”
“Honestly, Pat, I’m all right to stay with this little guy tonight.  I wouldn’t have come if I thought I couldn’t handle it.”
“If you’re absolutely sure.  But, you know, starting the sentence with Honestly is how someone starts telling a half-truth.  Or, a whole untruth.”
“You deserve to spend some time with Roy.  He’s a widower, and he probably needs you to make him laugh as much as you need to tell him some funny things.”
“Okay.  If you’re sure you’ll be all right.”
“We’ll be fine, Troy and me.  I need him to make me laugh as much as he probably needs to do something funny.”
“Okay.  Bedtime at 8:00. And get him at least a little damp in the bathtub if you possibly can.”
“Sure.”
Mrs. Zeffer jingled her keys goodbye at Troy and was off to Clarion for whatever kind of romantic adventure lonely old grandparents could have.
“So, I do someting funny now?” Troy asked.
“Sure.”
“Deet-da-deet dah-diddly-waaaagh!” he sang.  His puckered little face had Ray’s dark brown eyes and Ray’s dimples.  And as she stared at his chuckling face while he cracked himself up, She suddenly remembered how much she missed sweet, gentle Ray Zeffer.  He and Carla Sears of Belle City had made this little boy while they were still young and in high school.  Carla’s parents hated Ray for it.  They forbid the two young lovers from getting married.  But they were against abortion.  And they made the young couple miserable.  Up until Ray suddenly disappeared.  Then they took over the lives of both Carla and her baby son.
“Va-ahl-urrr-eee. I canst breathe!” complained Troy.
Realizing her error, she released him from the bone-crushing hug she had put on him.
“Vaaahluuurrreee?  Why is you sad?”  He was still trying to make her laugh.
She gently pulled him back into a more comfortable hug.  And then she cried.  It would last for an hour more.

Leave a comment

Filed under family, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney

Tagged as

March 1, 2022 · 4:16 am

He Rose on a Golden Wing… Canto 5

Debussy – Clair de Lune
 
As a senior in high school, there were a few things that Valerie had to endure that were not such a terrible thing for the other girls.  You see, the Belle City School District PTA put on a father/daughter dinner for all the senior girls every year, a tradition that went back eleven years.  In it, the girls and their fathers would be given the royal treatment in the school cafeteria with a full meal courtesy of the PTA who did the majority of the cooking, aided by the senior mothers who did the serving and the every-thing-elsing.  There would be some boring and semi-torturous entertainment from the music department, and then the dinner would culminate with the father/daughter dance.

But Valerie had no father.

Instead, she was stuck with Uncle Dash.  Yes, the eldest of Grandpa Larry’s three kids, with Aunt Jen the middle child, and Daddy Kyle the youngest.  That Uncle Dash.  The farmer in the dell.  Father to Brent and Stacy Clarke.  But he had missed Stacy’s father/daughter dinner, and Stacy had ended up running away from home, possibly away from the whole State of Iowa.  So, who would Mom ask to fill in for Daddy Kyle?  Was there ever any doubt?  The same monster who drove beloved cousin Stacy away forever because he couldn’t stand the Toad.

So, there she sat in the school cafeteria wearing the baby-blue evening dress that Mom and Aunt Jen had crafted for her with their semi-legendary sewing skills.  Uncle Dash, dressed in his best Sunday suit and tie sat next to her.

“Val, can you pass me that pepper shaker?” Uncle Dash asked, pointing at the pepper beside Charlotte Robbins’s plate.  It was ironically appropriate that the PTA wanted her to sit next to her worst enemy and the little fat man who was Charlotte’s father.

“Char?  Can I have the pepper please?”

“Oh, Val, surely you know that, on a night like tonight, everything belongs to you.”

Charlotte plunked the shaker down in front of Valerie so hard that a cloud of pepper poofed up almost in Valerie’s face.  If this were a cartoon show, Val would then be seized by a sneezing fit as the villainess laughed eerily.  But this wasn’t a cartoon show, and thankfully Val was apparently immune to cartoonish sneezing fits brought on by malevolent clouds of pepper.

“Here you go, Uncle Dash,” Val said, gingerly sitting the pepper down in front of her uncle.

“Thank you, sweetheart.  Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“Only once at our house, three times in the pickup, and seven times since we’ve been here… not counting this one.”

“Oh, well… you know… you are beautiful.  Kyle would be proud.”

She briefly turned her glare on him.  But the tears in his eyes stifled that instantly.  After all, Uncle Dash had loved his little brother in that stand-offish way Iowa farmers have of doing things and feeling things that farmers are not allowed to feel and do for some stupid reason.

And she knew that Uncle Dash blamed himself for Daddy when he…  Damn!  She didn’t want Charlotte Robbins seeing any tears.  Especially not Valerie’s own tears.  Then the little witch would pity her, and the last thing she wanted from old Baldy Greenskin was actual pity.  Not from the enemy!

“Uncle Dash, I’m not feeling so well.  I have a headache.”

“Oh, honey, the dance is about to start.  I promised your mother and your Aunt Betty that I would dance at least one dance with you.  Can’t you hang on just a little longer?”

She glanced at Charlotte who was making sheep’s eyes at David McLaughin who was sitting across the table from her with his older sister Carolyn, since his father was that workaholic that owned half of McLaughin Brothers Chevrolet.

“I can try.  But it’s only going to get worse.”

He looked at her anxiously.  It obviously meant more to him than it did to her that he had that one dance.  He could probably never understand what it meant to her to be there without…

She tried to concentrate on the meal.  She nibbled a little bit more of the chicken breast in yellow gravy.  But food tasted no better than she felt on the inside.  She ended up asking Alice Pedersen’s mom to take her plate away with most of the food still on it.

And then the dance music began.  The first one… the one she had promised to Uncle Dash… was Bryan Adams’ song “All I Want is You.”  Oh, gawd.  Why did the DJ have to pick that one?  It wasn’t a dance tune that Uncle Dash could really dance to.  And the words cut into her like a knife.  After all… who was the only one she wanted on this particular night?

She dutifully let Uncle Dash drag her out onto the dance floor, the clear rectangle of space left in the middle of all the rectangular tables in the school cafeteria.  He immediately tried to get her to dance a wooden-legged waltz, the only dance he knew.  She let herself be pulled around in a slow circle.  It was like dancing with Pinocchio… if the puppet’s joints had an excessive amount of Elmer’s Glue jamming them up.

Charlotte, that witch, stood there on the dance floor staring and laughing.  At least, she did until her own manic-midget father began doing a cross between the Chicken Dance and something the Monkees probably did on stage back in the 60’s.

“Uncle Dash!  I have to go home.  My head hurts.”

“Darling, we have almost finished the song.  And I gave my word…”

“You don’t understand.  I can’t do this anymore!”

“But Princess…”

That was it.  The name her father had always called her when he was still…

Valerie fell to her knees in the middle of the dance floor.

She began to shout just as the song was ending so that everyone’s attention would be riveted on what Val was saying.

“You are not my father!  My Daddy’s dead.  I can’t take it anymore!  Take me home now!”

“Please, Valerie… don’t… not here.”

“Home, now!”

Everyone was dead silent and staring.  Even smug Charlotte now looked stunned and horrified.

“I know you blame me for not being there when… but I…”  Uncle Dash was more distressed than he had even been that night when…

“No!  I don’t blame you!  I blame me!  I didn’t see it coming!  I didn’t do anything to stop him!  And when I found him, the gun was laying right there next to his hand.  It’s my fault.”

She raised her face to the ceiling.

Tears fell everywhere.  They were all silent, watching.

Her face was the moon.

And it was a blue moon.

But hopefully there would never be another blue moon.

Leave a comment

Filed under Depression, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney

Tagged as

February 22, 2022 · 3:08 pm

He Rose on a Golden Wing… Canto 4

Chopin – Etude Op. 10 No. 3 (Tristesse)

Since shortly after her twelfth birthday Valerie had lived with her mother in the house on the northeastern corner of Main Street and Whitten Avenue.  It was a house they moved into after Daddy Kyle lost the family farm to the bank and he…  well… he stopped sitting at the dinner table in the evenings.  In fact, he never sat at that particular dinner table in that particular house.  Ever.

“Valerie, help me set the table,” her mother said to her.

“Maybe you could ask Tim to do it.  He’s growing up too, you know.”

“He’s a guest in our house this evening.”

“I’d be happy to help,” said Aunt Jen.

“We welcome the company, but you’re a guest too this evening.  Valerie used to love doing this.  Remember when she was ten and would sing Disney songs as she placed the spoons, knives, and forks?”

“I’ll set the table, Mom, but I don’t sing anymore.”

“That’s a real shame.  You have a beautiful singing voice, girl,” said Aunt Jen.

“Valerie doesn’t do a lot of the things she used to do, Jen.  Did you know she is giving up cheerleading in her senior year?”

“What?  Why, Val?  You have always been the best one out there.  I thought you were the head cheerleader this year.”

“No.  Charlotte Robbins is head cheerleader.  But I didn’t want the job anymore anyway.  I don’t have the pep in my step anymore to do that whole bouncy, smiley thing.”

Valerie rounded the table plopping down five forks next to the five plates.  Then she picked up five spoons and rounded the table again, listlessly plopping down one for Uncle Rance, one for Terrible Tim, one for Aunt Jen, one for Mom, and then one for herself.  Aunt Jen was Daddy Kyle’s sister, and her family came to visit every Tuesday like clockwork, because Aunt Jen was relentlessly trying to help her niece and sister-in-law every single week since… since Daddy Kyle stopped sitting at the dinner table.  Five butter knives finished the ritual, and Valerie plopped down in her place.

Aunt Jen raised an eyebrow as she surveyed Valerie up and down.  “I really thought you loved cheerleading.  Is there something more wrong than usual that you need to tell us about?”

“No, I promise, there is not.  I’m sorry if I’m a bit out of sorts.”

“Valerie says the cheerleading squad has gotten too shallow and petty for her.  She seems to have some sort of grudge against about three of the girls.”

“Oh?  Did they do something mean to you, hon?”

“No, Aunt Jen.  It’s just that Dottie, Charlotte, and Lupe have all been making fun of the fact that I’ve gone most of the way through high school without a boyfriend.  They’ve all got one.”

“All three of those girls?”

“All seven of them besides me.  Even Patty the mascot has a boyfriend now.”

“But that is no reason to give up on something you love to do.”

“That’s just it… I don’t love to do it.  Not since the end of eighth grade.”

At that moment Uncle Rance and Tim the Termite both walked into the dining room.

“What don’t you love anymore?” Uncle Rance asked.

“Boys,” Tim the Twit had to answer for her.  He was the closest thing in the world she had to an actual brother, and he fulfilled that role tremendously terribly.

“Tim, dear, remember our discussion about respecting members of your own family,” Aunt Jen warned.

“But it’s not a secret,” Tim explained.  “You remember that French boy that came to live with the Martins, don’t you?”

“Francois?  The one who wore the clown paint and sang so beautifully in the Martins’ family bar and grille?”

“Yes,” Valerie answered with an almost-shaky voice.  “I was in love with him.  And suddenly he was dead and gone.”  She looked down at the tablecloth and couldn’t look up again.

The adults were silent, looking… well, stunned.

“Oh, I do remember.  That was so sad,” Aunt Jen said.

“But in school you are always hanging around with Ricky Porter and Billy Martin.  And you and Danny Murphy were inseparable before he graduated and found that Carla Bates.”  Uncle Rance was an English teacher at the high school, and he had seen practically everything she had ever done at Belle City High.

“Yeah, well, that’s because they were all Norwall Pirates and my good friends.  Not my boyfriends.”

“We’re sorry for your loss, Val,” Tim said, in a voice that was at the very least an excellent imitation of sincerity.  “I know how much you loved him and how long you were hurting after he was gone.”

Valerie almost said something mean to him.  But she looked at his innocent little devil-face and knew he wasn’t about to say something to hurt her in this moment.  She did love him… in a way… like the way you love a brother whom you want to bop on the head with your closed fist… and maybe even bop him really, really hard.  But he was undergoing changes in his life too, wasn’t he?”

“Did Tim tell you about his big date this weekend?” Val blurted out.  Even she wasn’t expecting the secret to spill like that.

“Oh?  He hasn’t told us anything about it yet,” Aunt Jen said, looking at Tim.

“But I’ll bet it’s Miss Murphy,” said his father.

Tim blushed deeply.  “Yes, it’s Dilsey.”

“What are you planning to do?” Aunt Jen asked.

“The Robin Williams movie is playing in Belle City at the theater.”

“Oh, that should be good.” Uncle Rance gave Tim a knowing wink.

Tim looked at Val and gave her a pained smile.  “How did you find out before I told anybody?”

“Dilsey asked me to babysit for her on Saturday, and I made her explain why.  Of course, you and her used to have some pretty epic arguments about who was more accurately described as a pig and who was a baboon.  So, she asked me how terrible I thought you would be to her.”

“Valerie!” Her Mom interjected reproachfully.

“So, did you say nice things about me?  Or did you tell her the truth?” Tim said with a wicked grin.

“Tim!”  Aunt Jen said with even more vehemence than Mom had used on her.

“I told her that even though you are kinda stinky on the outside, deep inside you’re basically a pretty good guy… well, really deep inside.”

Tim laughed.  Everybody else at least smirked, even disapproving parents.

“You know, Tim, we approve of Dilsey Murphy even more than we do of her brother Mike, your best friend,” said Uncle Rance.

“She’s very sweet and well-mannered young lady,” added Aunt Jen.  “Not that we don’t find Mike to be charming too… at least sometimes.” Aunt Jen was laughing by that time.

“And, Timothy Allen Kellogg, you better not do anything to upset her in any way,” Valerie warned.  “If you do, I will make sure you are wearing your underwear as a hat with your butt still inside it.”

“When you finish med-school, Cuz, you will learn that you can’t actually do that in the real world.”  Tim was entirely his usual self again.

“Don’t you try to tell me what I can’t do if I really put my mind to it!  One day, no single part of your anatomy will be safe from my surgical skills.  I’ll give up my dreams of studying architecture and study medicine just to prove it to you.” After that, the adults fell into their usual conversations.  Normally Valerie and Tim would use the time to talk about TV shows and comic books, and what monsters the Norwall Pirates were currently chasing.  But it had been a while since Val had last felt like actually talking about stuff.  So, instead, the two of them just looked at each other in uncomfortably awkward silence.

Leave a comment

Filed under humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney

Tagged as

February 15, 2022 · 3:18 pm

He Rose on a Golden Wing… Canto 3

Beethoven – Sonata No.1 in F Minor, Op.2 No.1 

Getting to school and back by bus every day was tough.  Especially when you are feeling rather down and blue.  Now that she was a senior in high school, she no longer had Danny Murphy to sit with on the bus.  Mary Phillips and Pidney Breslow had graduated four years ago and were in college now, soon to graduate from Iowa State University.  Danny had graduated from high school last year, and had told her during that summer that he and Carla Bates would be getting married in the near future.  Well, maybe not as near as anticipated since they still hadn’t picked a date.  But no more Danny on the bus to tell her jokes or drive her home from Belle City High in that incredibly old 1950s car he inherited from his Grampy.

She sat alone in the far back of the bus now.  Every day.  The bus ride to Norwall seemed endless, even though it was only ten miles as the crow flies… a really slow crow named Joe with half of his tail feathers missing.  But on this day, Dilsey Murphy, Danny’s younger sister, moved to the back as soon as she got on the bus.  She was wearing that old purple Carl Eller jersey, number 81 from the Minnesota Vikings of the 70s.

“Um, Valerie… do you mind if I sit with you on the way home today?”

“I may be kinda grumpy company.  But sure.”

Maybe the younger girl could lighten the mood for her.  But, then again… probably not.

Dilsey had straight black hair which she sometimes wore with a barrette on the right side of her bangs because her mother’s fashion sense reeked of the 1960s.  Otherwise, ignoring the hair and the barrette, Dilsey was dressed like a boy.  Vikings’ jersey, denim pants, and boys’ sneakers.

“Um, Val, I have a favor to ask.”

Oh, boy.  Here it comes.  The real reason.

“Please don’t be mad at me, but…”

“It’s all right.  I promise not to bite… at least, not very hard.”

“Yeah, um… you know Mrs. Patricia Zeffer?”

“Ray’s mom.  Of course, I know her.”

“Well, I normally babysit for her on Saturdays when she needs to go out.  But this week I can’t…”

“Mrs. Zeffer has a kid that needs babysitting services?  She has a kid that young?”

“Well, yes… it’s her grandson, actually.”

“Oh, of course.  But why is little Troy living with her now?”

“Uh, well…  You know that family has a bit of trouble since…”

“Since Ray disappeared six years ago.”

“Yeah.  I’m sorry.  I wouldn’t be asking, but…  I have a date on Saturday.”

“You do?  But you’re only…”

“Almost sixteen, and a sophomore in high school.”

“Sure.  I wasn’t trying to insult you or anything, but your mother…”

“Trusts me more than she ever did Danny.”

“Of course, she does.”

“Aren’t you going to ask who the date is with?”

She didn’t really, exactly… well, care.  But…

“So, who?”

“Tim.”

“No!  You have gotta be kidding me!  Tim the Terror?  Dim Tim?  Rim-tin-Tim?  The stinkilicious leader of the Norwall Pirates?”

Dilsey giggled awkwardly.  “I’ll have to remember those names.  They may prove very useful.”

“Why would an otherwise, very pretty girl waste her time with Tiny Terrible Tim?  He’s my cousin, and one of the grossest human beans in all of Iowa.  In fact… all of the Midwest.”

“You know he is a good person at heart.  He’s only an   icky boy on the outside.  Inside he’s…”

“Only icky ninety-nine percent of the time.  I do know my own cousin.”

Dilsey laughed a little more easily this time.  Of course, Val wasn’t entirely sure she was joking.  The brat could really get on your nerves sometimes.

“But… you don’t really think that…”

“That you shouldn’t be dating him?  The girl who once told him that he was the worst, most two-faced person she ever met?”

Dilsey’s face was suddenly crestfallen.  She looked like her whole positive little self was being crushed and was about to crumble into a weepy pile.

“You think it’s a mistake if I think I might be falling in love with him?”

“A boy who is a year younger than you are?  One who is way less mature than you are?  Way meaner too?”

Tears were forming in Dilsey’s dark eyes.  Valerie had gone too far.  Who was the meaner cousin now?

“I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have said any of that.  I have been feeling outa sorts and kinda depressed for a while now.  I didn’t mean to take it out on you or Tim either.  Forgive me?”

“You’ll take the babysitting job for me?”

“Of course.  Little Troy Zeffer?  He’s such a little cutie.”

“Do you really think it’s something a normal human being would do to like Tim and go see a movie with him?  He wants to watch Mrs. Doubtfire with me.”

“With Robin Williams in it?”

“Yeah.  The Murphy family wants to see it together too, so, if I go with Tim, I’ll be watching it twice, probably in the same weekend.”

Val chuckled softly.  “That sounds good.  You make sure you tell Tim I am taking this sitting job for you to be able to go with him, so he owes me.  And if he tries to sneak-kiss you, hit him in the nose really hard.”

Dilsey laughed.  Val knew she intimidated the younger girl.  Dilsey had never been a cheerleader.  Never been the leader of the Norwall Pirates.  And never lost a boyfriend before.  And Val envied her those things.

“Valerie?  Do you need to be alone in this back seat every day on the bus ride home?”

“Are you offering to sit with me regularly?”

“Yes.  Especially now that Tim is on the basketball team and has practice every afternoon.”

That was right.  Now that Valerie had given up cheerleading, there was no longer any reason to stay in Belle City after school, and no reason to ride the late bus.

“I had thought I wanted to sit alone this year, without Danny here to entertain me.  But I think sitting with his sister will be just about the perfect thing to take the place of that.”

Leave a comment

Filed under battling depression, humor, kids, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney

Tagged as

February 8, 2022 · 3:08 pm

He Rose on a Golden Wing… Canto 2

Chopin – Etude Op. 10 No. 1 (Waterfall)

It was an evil plan, a wickedness the boys would never see coming.  But Valerie knew it was a necessary plan.  She made them go by foot.  You could reach the skinny-dipping pond by foot if you followed the tracks out south of town, past Uncle Dash’s farm and past the Sumpter Park Woods where the city of Norwall maintained a shelter house with picnic tables and a manicured lawn that led to trails into the woods and eventually to the old Sumpter log cabin, what was left of it.

There was an old ox-bow pond that once had been connected to the Iowa River, but now was a separate body of water coming out of an artesian spring that brought fresh water from the shared river water table.

“Really?  We’re going to the old Pirates’ skinny-dipping place?” Ricky Porter asked skeptically.

“It’s too late in the year for swimming, Val,” Billy Martin reminded her.  “October is too cold in Iowa.”

“You really think I would make you come this far just for a chance to see you guys naked?  Again?”

“When did you ever see me naked?” asked Billy.  At eighteen he was a rather bony and skinny youth.  And he was so painfully shy that Val had not even seen him in swimming trunks.

“Okay, well… I wasn’t referring to you.”

“I only go in if you do,” Ricky said to her.  He had dared her like that once before, though she had seen his golden-brown, muscled form and then successfully backed out of going in herself.

“We didn’t come here for that,” she answered with a frown.  “I needed to talk to you both.  I had another one of those dreams again last night.  I spent the whole night crying.”

“The angel dreams again?” Billy asked, wide-eyed.

“Michel Volant, yes.”

“You know we’re here for you, Val.  We’re your friends and fellow Pirates,” Ricky said.

“But you also know how much it hurts to talk about Francois,” Billy said, tears already forming in his eyes.

Valerie looked him squarely in the eyes.  She knew he would see exactly what she meant.

“Oh, gawd, Val, you haven’t been hurting yourself already have you?” Billy asked, his voice quavering slightly.

“Not this time.  But you know those dreams usually mean another black depression is coming on.  And you know what we have to do about it.”

“Yeah.  We promised to always tell each other if we ever had those kinds of thoughts again.”  Ricky’s eyes were tearing up again too.  Val was aware he had cut himself on the ankles more than any of them had ever done themselves self-harm.  He was the one who had spent a week in the hospital two years ago.

“Have you been thinking about hurting yourself, Val?” Billy asked.

“Maybe.  That’s why we had to talk today and not wait any longer.”

“Is it… is it Francois again?”

“Billy, we can talk about Tommy this time.  I just need to hear it again.  I just know if we don’t do something about the ones we lost…”

“…To keep them alive in our hearts, yeah,” said Ricky.

“You know I can’t tell you anything about Tommy.  I never met him.  I spent the whole blizzard down in the cellar next to the furnace while it burned propane.”  Billy looked sadly across the wind-rippled water.

“What do you want to know about Tommy?  I don’t know everything, but I knew him a few years longer than you did.”  Ricky’s eyes were glistening.

“You haven’t heard from him since the blizzard, have you?” She asked.

“You know I would tell you if I had.  Besides, he didn’t take anybody’s phone number with him.”

“He could’ve looked us up.  He knows you were taken in by Cliff Baily and his new wife.  He knows I live in town with my mother.”

“Yeah, but that’s not Tommy’s style.  He survived on the road because he always lived in the moment.  He was focused on where he was and the people he was with… in the NOW.”

“Yeah.  I remember him that way too.”

“What more do you really want to know about him, Val?”

“Why did you boys follow him all the way to Norwall?”

“Well… um, I… Yeah…”

“You can tell me.  No matter how hard it may seem, Ricky.  We’re Pirates, you and I.  You can tell me anything.”

“Are we still Norwall Pirates?” Billy asked.  “We haven’t had a club meeting in two years.  And you made your little cousin, Tim Kellogg, the new Pirate leader.”

“You did?  You didn’t tell me?”

“Oh, Ricky.  You left the Pirates before Billy and I did.  They are all younger kids now.  We’re old.  Almost adults.”

“Yeah, but… Once a Pirate, always a Pirate.”

“We’ll always be a part of it.  The club was started by my cousin Brent Clarke, and he says he’s still a Pirate.  It’s just that the Pirates belong in the control of the Norwall kids, so they learn to rely on each other, and form the team that helps us all survive the perils of the unknown.”

Ricky and Billy both smiled and laughed a little at that.  They knew it was true just as surely as Valerie did.

“We’re off topic now, Rick,” Billy said.  “You promised her to tell her why you followed Tommy here to Norwall.”

“Yeah… um… You know that most kids in the foster care system get abused one way or another…”

“Yeah, Tommy told me that too… during the blizzard.”

“We didn’t form the Fantastic Foursome just by getting on that Trailways bus together.  Terry and I met in the group home.  He had nobody to talk to him in his previous foster homes… because nobody spoke sign language.”

“Did you know sign when you met him?” Billy asked.

“Terry taught me.  He needed someone to talk to desperately.   And I learned fast.”

“Faster than you taught it to me?”

“Well, yeah…  You’re kinda a slow learner, Billy.”

“Okay, but that don’t mean I ain’t smart.”

“Of course, not,” Valerie said.

“Well, you can see what Terry’s real father did to him if you look at his burned ears.  His father was the reason he was deaf.”

“And what about Tommy and Dennis?” Val asked.

“Well, you remember Denny had those crutches.  He got that way from malnourishment.  His first fosters only had him to get the money the State paid.  They practically starved him to death.  The mom of that family went to jail for it.  Denny probably would’ve died if Brikkleputti… I mean, Mom, hadn’t followed us all the way to Norwall with the medicine Denny and I both needed.”

“Is Denny still alive, you think?”

“Sure, Val.  If Tommy’s alive, and I know he is, he wouldn’t have let anything happen to Denny.  He loved him like a little brother.”

“He loved all three of you like that.”

“Yeah, he did.  That’s why he left us here when he left for Dallas.  He took Denny with him, but he left me with Cliff and Mom to be a family like I never had before.  And the Dawes family wanted to adopt Terry too.  He left us behind for our own good.”

“But why was Tommy running away to begin with?”

“Well… the last foster family he lived with, they… beat him.  And when he finally got strong enough to fight back, the cops came and took Tommy and locked him up… not that crazy old man who beat him.”

“Yeah, Tommy told me about that too.”

“And what about you, Ricky?”  Billy asked.

“Well, I… uh… maybe I ain’t ready to talk about that just yet.”

“The Teddy Bear Killer?” Val asked.

“Yeah, don’t even say his name, please.”

“I know what you mean.  I… um… I can’t talk about Daddy Kyle, either.”

“But, Val, what did we even come here for, then?” Billy asked.

“We gotta talk about the hard things.  All three of us,” said Ricky.  “We all are hurting inside almost all of the time.”

“Yeah, and that’s why we’re here instead of trying to meet in Zoomboogadoo.  This pond is touched by magic, just like the gazebo in Zoomboogadoo.”

“No, that’s not a real place.  We didn’t actually meet Francois and his sister in dreams.  That was all just us imagining it.  And Ricky wasn’t even able to meet us in the Dreamlands… not even once.”  Billy was visibly upset.

“You are never going to convince me that Zoomboogadoo wasn’t real.  I remember it too vividly.”

“But dreams can be vivid sometimes, and still not real,” reminded Ricky.

“All right.   But this place is magic too.  I have come here more than once to talk to Clovis.  You just have to be in the right state of mind.”

“Val, there is no Clovis.  He’s just a story they tell in the Pirates’ meetings to explain the disappearance of Conrad Doble.  You said yourself, it was old Mrs. Haire that scared him away for good.  He didn’t turn into no naked kid with horns and a tail.”  It was Ricky’s turn to look visibly upset.

“Yeah, well… we need to stay ahead of the depression and the suicidal thinking.  We are not any of us ever going to hurt ourselves again.  That doesn’t cure the problems that are causing us pain.”

“You’re right, Val,” said Billy.

“Yeah, we gotta talk it all out,” said Ricky.

“Yeah.  And we’re gonna do it here, by the skinny-dipping pond.  And we’re gonna do it naked.  That’s the evil plan.”

“What?”  Both boys were upset.

“You remember how it was in Zoomboogadoo,” said Valerie, looking straight into the eyes of Billy.  “We all showed up there in our dreams with no clothes on.  Like we were born into it.  Innocent as babes.”

“That was just a dream,” Billy insisted.

“Yeah, and it wasn’t cold fall weather either, I bet,” said Ricky.

“That’s true.  But that’s what will keep us from being seen and watched by the other Pirates.  They only come here during skinny-dipping season.”

“What if we can’t do it?  Get naked here… I mean,” said Billy with a stutter.

“And what if we don’t want to do it?” Ricky added.

“Well, we’ll take it slow.  It is not because of sex or wanting to see each other naked.  It’s about being completely honest and open.  No barriers.  If we don’t help each other when the darkness returns to our brains, someone else will die.  And I can’t lose anybody else in my life.  I need to add people, not lose them.” All three of them saw the dark clouds coming on the horizon in the mind’s eye.  At least, Val was almost positive they did.  And the one advantage the Pirates had over other people who get darkly depressed and suicidal was that they had each other.  These three friends, at least, actually knew each other better than most friends ever do.  And soon they would be inside each other’s heads in ways that Valerie simply knew would help. 

Leave a comment

Filed under Depression, empathy, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney

Tagged as

February 1, 2022 · 5:19 pm

He Rose on a Golden Wing… Canto 1

This novel, my new work in progress, was not the original choice to fill this space on Tuesday’s NOVEL WRITING posts. It is not like novels I have written before. It will be longer, deeper, and probably more controversial. It will also probably not be a stand-alone story/ It will be deeply intertwined with When the Captain Came Calling, Snow Babies, and Sing Sad Songs, my previous Valerie-Clarke novels. The Cantos will not be short and will be titled with Classical music. An emphasis will be placed on thematic development and character development. And I may not do more than a few Cantos here.

Prelude and Opening Movement

Just because you cannot see someone knocking on your front door anymore, it doesn’t mean they are totally gone from your life.  In fact, sometimes the most important people in your life are the ones that you can’t touch anymore… the ones who don’t sit down at the dinner table with you anymore… the ones you can’t talk to and have them actually give you an answer anymore…  the ones who will never actually kiss you ever again.

That’s why Valerie Clarke was crying in her bedroom.  It was why she was awake with her eyes closed early into the wee hours of the morning.  It was also why she hadn’t really been aware when the racing thoughts and weepy sighs turned directly into a conversation with her angel.  It was as if Michel Volant was a part of her every-day living world.

“Why are you crying, Mon Cher?  What solace can I give to thee?”

He flapped his large white wings only once, and the swirl of cool night air helped draw away some of the heat on her face because she had been crying, and cooled her body down just enough to drain away the tightness and stress.

“Because they’re all gone, Michel.  I have nobody left.”

“Who has gone?  You mean Mary and Pidney because they have gone to College in Cedar Rapids?”

“Yes, my two best friends from high school are gone far away.  But not just them.”

“Danny Murphy because he has fallen in love with the Bates girl?”

“Yes.  He was never my boyfriend.  But he made me laugh.  And he doesn’t have time for me anymore because of Carla.  He’s deeply in love with her, and won’t risk making her jealous.  I had no closer friend when I was twelve and he was thirteen.”

“But surely there are others…”

“No.  Really, there are not.”

“You mean?”

“You I know.  But…” Valerie’s eyes were open, but seeing only the darkness of the bedroom.  “I was in love with him too.  And he was… he never got to… Oh!  I can’t even say it.”

“But I was him and he was me… for a time.  So, I know he was deeply in love with you.  But he had no choice.  A hematoma in the brain that the doctors had missed…”

“And before him it was Tommy.   He came with the blizzard, and left with…”

“But you knew he had a mission in life.  He had to go.  And perhaps he will return one day.”

“He never asked me if I would let him go.  Or if I wanted to go with him.  Now, I don’t even know if he’s still alive.”

“He is.  That boy was made of iron.  He was stronger than any adult you ever met.  At least, stronger of heart.”

“And I have lost so many adults in my life too.”

“Your mother is still here.  And Uncle Dash.”

“But there was Catbird.”

“The old hobo from the blizzard?  The man with the crazy-quilt for a coat?”

“He was so wise and so good.  But when the blizzard was over… he was gone.”

“And who else did you lose?”

“My cousin Stacy.  I could talk to her about anything.  And Uncle Dash drove her away because…”

“Because she fell in love with the Toad, Brom Brown.”

“Yes…  And don’t forget Ray Zeffer.  He simply disappeared.  Remember how he saved me when the Voodoo Guy was tricking everybody?”

“The first boy who ever saw you naked.”

“Well, the first non-cousin boy.”

“And before that?”

Valerie’s eyes were blurry with tears.  Did that mean this wasn’t a dream?  Do you get blurry vision in a dream?

“Daddy…”

“Yes.  You found him in the barn…”

“And the gun was still there…”

“Oh, Ma Belle, I’m sorry to make you remember.”

 “Why did he do it?  Was it because of something I did wrong?  Was it my fault?”

“This I do not know.  But I think not.  And you must remember, the pain of losing someone is caused by their value to you.  If it hurts that much…”

“…Then that’s how much you loved them.  I know.  The pain will never go away.  He left me without ever even trying to tell me why he had to go.” She could say nothing more.  Her whole mind was full of tears.  She laid her head on his soft bare shoulder, and he folded his wing around her.  And then she realized that she was awake.  It was not so much a shoulder as it was a damp pillow.  And she desperately needed him to come back.  Her heart was broken.  Even her angel had left her behind.

Can I do this? This is going to be the hardest novel to write that I have ever yet written. I had to write it to answer critical questions I have about my own life. But reading this through for the fifth time, I still had to stop and cry three times. It’s worse now that both my mother and father have died. But if I can mend Valerie’s broken heart before this story is over, then it will more than be worth it.

Leave a comment

Filed under being alone, humor, novel, novel plans, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney

Tagged as

January 25, 2022 · 4:59 pm

Novel Writing Going Forward

The Necromancer’s Apprentice is now finished and being edited for publication. So, the chapter by chapter serialization is now ended. The previous work AeroQuest 4 : The Amazing Aero Brothers is also finished and awaiting final edits for publication.

So, I need a new book to put on this Tuesday blog-spot.

Most of the novels I have put through this Tuesday process have been like AeroQuest 4, novel projects with big problems that require a lot of rewriting and editorial work.

Since I finished AeroQuest 4, I have been using Tuesdays for my main writing project, the first two being relatively short novellas. The most recent one was intended to be a novella, but turned into a short novel. If I follow the original plan, the next book I will use here is AeroQuest 5 : It Ain’t Over Yet.

The second choice would be to use my next main work in progress. That would be some version of this book;

But this novel is going to be a lot longer than any of the things I have been using for this purpose. Cantos or Chapters are a lot longer than is wise to use as a daily post. Do I use smaller chunks of chapters?

I have doubts about this method, but the post for next week would already be written if I do that.

So, by next Tuesday… I will have an answer.

Leave a comment

Filed under humor, illustrations, novel plans, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney

January 18, 2022 · 3:41 pm

The Necromancer’s Apprentice… Canto 16

Wayward Butterfly Children

Anneliese’s favorite Gingerbread Boy, Johan of Dusseldorf, found us as we were passing Tornhilda’s Towering Townhouse in the lower part of the castle.

“The Butterfly Child you had me watching is up near the wasp nest asking questions about the Wasprider Cavalry and Captain Bobkin.”

Anneliese frowned at that news.

“Why would she be doing that?” Bob asked me.

I shrugged.  “Was she asking about where to find us?”

“Not unless she was intending to look into the iron spikes that the cavalry uses to make the wasp stingers more deadly to the Unseely Court in order to find you.”  Johan’s peppermint candy eyes were expressionless, so I couldn’t tell if he was joking or being suspicious.  I know I didn’t like the sound of that, and Dolly was my friend.

“Lead us to where you left her,” Anneliese ordered Johan.  Over time, the Gingerbread Boy had developed a more Sylph-like shape to make him faster and more agile than the standard waddling cookie-shaped boy.

We found ourselves quickly climbing upward on the castle’s winding central staircase.  We passed many Pixies with various animal and bug-like shapes.   There were large numbers of Sylphs and Elves and Brownies and Butterfly Children also.  I wondered if anybody had ever counted how many lived in this tree-castle.  Bob had told me that it had an extensive underground city in the roots of the willow tree too.  Could Dolly have been counting them for some reason?

I heard Dolly giggling in that girlish way she did as we reached the topmost landing of the central stair.  She was hanging over the shoulder of an older Sylph grown fat and round with age.  He wore a captain’s uniform that was tight on him because of his generous belly.  He was laughing too, apparently at whatever the two of them had been talking about.

“Ah!  Derfie!  I’ve found you at last!  Have you met Captain Bobkin?  He’s in charge of the military defenses of Cair Tellos.”  Dolly was smiling at me, but I’m not sure I was very quick to smile back.

“Well, well, I know Anneliese and young Bob quite well.  I am even acquainted with Johan the Gingerbread Boy.  But who is this charming Sylph who is the friend of the lovely Dollinglammer?”

“This is Derfentwinkle.  She’s potentially going to be Master Eli Tragedy’s third apprentice,” said Bob, pulling me forward by the hand and placing my hand om the fat fairy captain’s gloved hand.

“Well, aren’t you sweet.”  He kissed me on the cheek.  His handlebar moustache was apparently waxed and felt slightly sticky on my cheek.

“We have all been looking for you, Miss Dollinglammer, since the Wizard Pippen arrested and nearly executed Miss Derfentwinkle, and Bob the Apprentice,” said Anneliese with what I took to be a guarded smile.

“Oh, my!  Are you both okay?  I thought surely the crows would rescue you both!” she said, seemingly surprised.

I wasn’t sure if Dolly was being straight with me, or just pretending.  As far as I knew, she had never lied to me before.  But Kronomarke can make a girl do horrible things whether she wanted to or not… Though I wondered what memories of evil the Magic Hat had removed from my head that made me think that in spite of not remembering.

And when Dolly mentioned Homer and Bert, I finally realized that I could no longer hear their continued presence in my mind or see what they were seeing through my eyes when I attempted to see through theirs.

I whispered in Bob’s ear, “I can’t feel my crow familiars in my mind anymore.”

Bob whispered back, “That was a special instruction that Master Eli gave to Bibby Joon.  No mind can touch yours when you are wearing that cape.”

“Oh.”

I honestly didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.  Did they not trust me yet?  Of course, I didn’t trust me either, not knowing how the necromancer had screwed up my mind before I got the cape.

“Well, Dollinglammer, now that we have found you, we need to get you back to Master Eli’s tower where you will be safe.”

“Oh, yeah… okay.” Dolly turned to go into the stairwell leading into Captain Bobkin’s command center. “It’s the other way, Miss,” said Johan politely.  And so we headed down the stair taking us back to the castle.

Leave a comment

Filed under fairies, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney

Tagged as

January 11, 2022 · 5:10 pm

The Necromancer’s Apprentice… Canto 15

The Bat-winged Cape

As we walked out of Master Tragedy’s Sorcerer’s tower toward the crafting district of Cair Tellos, I was carrying the huge jar of midnight shadows that Master Eli had given us to have a cape made from for Derfentwinkle.  She was carrying the bottle imp, Kackenfurchtbar, in case I needed to test the truthfulness of what Derfie was telling us.  But once on the stair to the Stitch-Witches’ Fabric and Sewing Shoppe, I turned to Derfie and set the jar down on a wooden step for a moment.

“Um, ah… Derfentwinkle?”

“Yes, Bob?”

“Can I… um… give you… ahem… I mean… would it be okay if I… gave you a…”  I opened my arms before I said the actual words’

“A hug, Bob?”

I nodded silently, and she grabbed me with both arms and pressed my face against her bare bosom.  I felt awkward, but I didn’t pull back.  I put both of my arms around her and squeezed her just as hard.

“Because the Erlking’s Wizard nearly cut our heads off before we ever got a chance to…”

“Hug each other like this?” she finished my sentence.  She used her empty hand to stroke the back of my head.

“Yeah…”

We held each other tightly for a few long minutes.  Then, suddenly, Anneliese was there.

“Ah, Derfentwinkle, I see you’ve discovered how huggable the nicest Sylvan boy in all of Cair Tellos really is.”

“Are you jealous?”

“Of the hug, maybe.  But I can surely share my best boy.”

“Best boy?  Not, boyfriend?” Derfie asked.

“Anne is a Storybook and much older than me,” I said, reluctantly releasing my hold on the necromancer’s apprentice.

“Oh, right.  Old enough to be your mother, I suppose?”

“Or his grandmother,” said Anneliese with a wrinkling of her nose above a puckish grin.  “If you like my almost grandson, then that pleases me.””

“Did you come seeking us?” I asked her.

“Yes, I did.  Master Eli told me where to find you two.  A pretty little Butterfly Child named Dollinglammer has been asking about you in the residential towers.  She seems intent on finding you.  Especially you, Bob,”

“We have to go to the stitch-witches to get a cape made for Derfie.  But if you come with us, you can take us to her afterwards,” I suggested.

“That would be lovely,” Anne said.  “I have been interested to get to know this new Sylph friend of yours, Bob.”

Anneliese, nude as always, was absolutely beautiful.  She had longish blond hair which curled wildly, and she never combed it.  She was shaped like the fourteen-year-old  human girl she was when the Nazis put her to death at Auschwitz.  She was now an immortal Storybook thanks to a story her mother told about her, so her beauty would never fade or change.

She put an arm around my neck as I picked up the jar of shadows, and she put her other arm around Derfie, drawing us both close to her.

“Derfentwinkle, my powers as a Storybook are openness and honesty.  If you ever need to talk to about the shadows that are inside of you, I’m your friend.  I will talk about it with you as honestly as anyone can.  And I say this as a guarantee, I can help you.”

Derfie looked down at the ground as we continued into the shop of the stitch-witches.

Bibby-Joon, the elder stitch-witch met us there.  She was a Pixie with the upper torso of a youthful woman and the abdomen and spider legs of a large spider.

“We will have the cape done for you in a matter of minutes,” Bibby said.  “It will be a very special Batwing Cape just as Master Eli ordered.  It will not only protect you from mind control and influence spells, but it will turn into bat wings on command so you can fly.  And if you wrap it all the way around you while standing in shadow, you will disappear and remain invisible as long as you do not move.”

We came out of the shop with Derfentwinkle wearing her new protective magic cape.

“It looks very becoming on you,” Anneliese told her.

“Kack?  Is the necromancer’s mind control working on Derfie in any way?” I asked the bottle imp just as Master Eli had instructed me.

“No, Bob.  Any evil she does now will be entirely her own doing.”

I think that answer made me frown or something.  Anneliese put a comforting hand on the back of my neck and said, “Don’t worry, Bob.  Everything is as it should be.” Derfie was smiling at the ground.  And I couldn’t help feeling how beautiful she was… to me, at least.  And worrying about how much control that gave her over me.

Leave a comment

Filed under fairies, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney

Tagged as

January 4, 2022 · 3:36 pm

The Necromancer’s Apprentice… Canto 14

When You Wish Upon a Broom

I woke up to find myself in the red-velvet interior of one of Master Eli’s coat pockets.  I was obviously considerably smaller than my normal two and a half inches of height.

“I’m sorry, Master.  I know I am not supposed to misuse the Magic Hat.  But I couldn’t help it.  It was there.  And I wanted a girlfriend so badly…”

“Mickey, I don’t even have to punish you.  You’ve already gotten the consequences you deserve.  You can’t have sex with one…”

“Master?  How do I stop these aggressive brooms?” the quiet boy said sounding on the edge of desperation.

“…let alone TWO brooms!  You should have used the animate object spell on one of those limestone statues Dizzyglitter is always carving.  At least they are supposed to look like Sylphs.  What are the brooms’ names, Mickey?”

“Merrydew and Cannabis,” Mickey squeaked.

“Give them new orders by name, Bob.”  The Master’s voice seemed to be suppressing a slight chuckle.

I climbed up to the edge of the pocket and looked out.

“Merrydew, sweep the floors.  Cannabis, alphabetize the potion bottles.”

I saw the two brooms stop chasing Bob and take up their new tasks.  Mickey was laid up on the exam table, his body naked except for fur and a huge bandage on his personal love parts.  I was pretty sure that was the consequences the Master spoke of, but I didn’t want to think about how it came to be.

Then I looked up and saw Master Eli looking down at me and picking me up in his gloved left hand.  He lifted me up in front of his scowling face.

“You, I believe have been a very naughty girl, Derfentwinkle.  What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I am very sorry, Master Eli.  I was always planning to return to your service.  But the crows contacted me by telepathy and told me where to find my friend Dollinglammer.  And she had news of my poor sister.”



“You left with some of the magic given you by the Magic Hat, but none of the training you were supposed to get from me.”

“Are you going to punish me?”

“Well, of course not.  What did a student ever learn from being punished beyond how much they should hate their teacher?  You saw the White Stag inside the hat.  That means you were chosen and must stay with me until your quest is completed.”

“My quest?  Is it to free the village of Mortimer’s

Mudwallow?”

“No, of course not.  I mean, the Stag doesn’t tell me much about the future.  Just that you have a quest and we are tasked with helping you.”

He put me gently down on the cold stone floor, took a vial of purple liquid from one of his other pockets, and sprinkled some on my head.  With dizzying suddenness, I was normal-sized again.

“We need to dress you in an apprentice’s robe like Mickey is supposed to be wearing if the sex-crazed brooms hadn’t torn it off him.”

“No.  I don’t wear clothes.  None of my family ever has.”

“It’s not an option.  You need to wear a protective enchantment, both from Bluebottom’s mind control and Master Pippen’s influence spells.”

“Does it have to be a robe?  Bob doesn’t wear a robe.”

“Do you want an enchanted leather jerkin like Bob wears?  Complete with magical advertising signs for our Sorcery business?”

“No, ah…  can it be a necklace, or a hat?”

“Not to hold the spell powers I will make it with.”

“You can wear your apprentice robe open in the front like I do.  I like to show off my manly abs,” said Mickey.

“I can probably make a cloak or a cape,” Master Eli suggested.

“Why do so many Sylphs prefer to be nude?” quiet Bob asked Master Eli.

“Sylphs are naturally immune to heat and cold, so they don’t need clothing to protect them from those things.  And they like the freedom of movement they have with nothing binding to wear.  They don’t need clothes the way Elves and Slow Ones and Brownies do.  There are even Elves that make magical necklaces, collars, and rings to keep them warm or cool so they can be nude also.”

“But some of us just like to be naked all the time,” I said, not really understanding why Bob didn’t know that already.

Bob was looking at me as I stood there naked in front of him.  He had a shy smile on his cute face.  It gave me an unexpected thrill to realize it.

Leave a comment

Filed under fairies, humor, magic, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney

Tagged as