Tickled to Death

Funny Epitaphs For Kids

Jon Coley

Epitaphs are poems written on the grave stones of our beloved deceased. While visiting an amusement park with a famous rodent mascot, I noticed some funny epitaphs written on grave markers. It was on my favorite ride, THE HAUNTED MANSION. This collection of poetry is meant to make you laugh, much the same way those epitaphs made me laugh while waiting in line. The names in each poem aren’t actually related to real persons.I teach school, and decided to use some of the names on the class rosters. Rest assured, this is all in good fun. I do not fantasize on my students’ untimely demise. Usually.

Welcome to Our Graveyard

Our Residents are Tickled to Death to Have You Here

Enjoy the Tour

Here Lies Eli

Who Slipped on a Cow Pie

And Why is He Now Dead?

Well, He Landed on His Head

Rest In Peace Laynee

You Were so Sweet and Never Dull

As Smart as You had been,

Now Worms Wiggle in Your Skull

Here Lies Gibson

Who Robbed a Bank in Lisbon

He Jumped From The Plane With all Of His Loot

If Only He’d Remembered That Darned Parachute

Here Lies Jillian

A Friend to All of Us

She Should Have Looked Both Ways

Before Walking in Front of that Bus

Rest In Peace Logan

Who Engaged in Battle with a Shogun

And how Sad it was When He Died

For Out Came What Should’ve Stayed Inside

Our Dearest Camryn

To Live on the Lake was Her Greatest of Wishes

Hard She Worked All Her Life

Now She is Sleeping

with the Fishes

Here Lies Young Carson

Who Had a Long Career of Theft and Arson

He Stole a Car

for Goodness Sakes

Too Bad it Didn’t Have any Brakes

Rest In Peace Gabriel

Born with the Gift Of Gab

It’s a Shame You Opened the Wrong Door

Into the Pathogen Lab

Here Lies Kaylee

Who Was Never A Phony

Still She Should Not

Have Eaten

That Expired Pepperoni

Here Lies Talon

Our Good Friend And Brother

His Body Went One Way

But His Head Went the Other

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Limerick City

Jon Coley

For Harper, who really knows how to laugh.

Copyright ©️ 2023

What is a limerick?

In the classroom, you may learn that it’s a kind of poetry with a distinct rhythm, meter and rhyme scheme, AABBA.

Boring!

Limericks are a lot of fun. They are usually funny and sometimes nonsensical, just like life itself. In other words, Limericks are a humorous celebration of life.

Believed to come from Limerick, Ireland, these poems were recited in pubs and parties for silly fun. Well, let’s have some of that. Shall we?

These are a few limericks I wrote about some kids I know. There is no relation between the actual children and the weird things they are doing in the lines of these poems.

However, I assure you that these kids are pretty strange. That being said, welcome to Limerick City!

Limerick City

Welcome all to our Limerick City

Where poetry reigns without mercy or pity

The kiddos are crazy

And some even lazy

But sometimes they can be quite witty

Jillian

There once was a young lass called Jillian

Who danced with joy at cotillion.

She slipped on a peel

And fell with a squeal

So now she’s suing for fourteen million.

Talon

There once was a lad named Talon

With his friends he went a pallin’

He drank a large cup

Of some very sweet stuff

Then he peed half a gallon

Laynee

I know of this lass called Laynee

Who sits under trees quite shady

Where she sips sweet tea

And writes poetry

Such a precocious young lady!

Gibson

There is a young lad, name of Gibson

Which is not his last name, but his first, son

With a brother named Fender

Here’s the mind bender

They think playing guitar is like treason!

Riley

(RYE lee)

There’s this young girl named Riley

She’s sometimes pretentious and wiley

But she’s a heart of gold

Or so I am told

But people are sometimes beguiling.

Alexa and Camryn

(KAM rin)

Two girls, Alexa and Camryn

Went to the meadow to watch a young ram run

But the beast turned around

And put its head down

Now it’s watching both of them run.

Eliga

(E-lie-jah)

And now a tale of Eliga the twisted

Who reached for the ball, but woefully missed it

He stumbled around

And fell himself down

And the earth? Well, he kissed it

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Volume 1

Jon Coley

For Nila, Jonalin, Martha, and Floss; the women in my life.

Before you read this...

Since you have obviously lowered your standards, I highly encourage you not to believe a word of this to be true. The contents of this publication in no way resemble truth at all. If truth were a street, this would be a dead end road. Kids talk about teachers all the time. One should always take what they say with a grain (or bushel in this case) of salt. But if you insist on reading further, please remember the following: I TOLD YOU SO!

Mr. Coley

THE RECORD OF PAPER!

Volume 1 Issue 1

THE FISH CREEK FIASCO!

(Plus: An Infamous Hoodliwink Sighting)

Foreword

(Letter from the Editor)

This is the foreword because it comes before the story. But before you read what comes after this foreword, I recommend that you read the afterward, which comes after what comes after this foreword (that is after the story). It explains some things that you might find confusing in the part that comes before the afterward, which again, you should read after this foreword. Doing this might clear up some confusion. I wouldn’t want you to be confused. Got it? Good.

Sincerely,

Emmitte Marie

Editor N’ Chief

KNOWING MINDS WANT TO ENQUIRE!

NEW EDUCATION METHODS RAISE A STINK

You may think you know all about what happened in Fish Creek, Polk County back in the day, but I was there. I saw it all and it was something all right, really something. This is the report from the zero ground.

Well, it all started when Fish Creek Primary was due up for a new teacher. We all know what happened to the old teacher. It should have plain that something wasn’t quite kosher when he walked into the classroom door. Why, he waltzed in chomping on a plug of tobacco big enough to make a billy goat’s mouth water. Obviously he hadn’t been debriefed on our school’s tobacco policy. His shoes had the toes cut out, which provided plenty of wiggle room. He wore overhauls instead of a proper teaching suit. To top it all off, he completely broke the school dress code by wearing a coonskin cap right in the middle of the classroom!

Well, as you may surmise, all of us kids were completely slack-jawed and stupefied at the sight of our new educator. But that was nothing compared to what happened next.

First thing you know, our tutelary pulled a polecat out of his overhaul pocket and set it slap on the desk. Next he stuck his index finger upside his nose, took a deep breath, and gave a loud snort. This expelled a humongous greenish boog-wallop with an impressive trajectory that landed it in the fireplace. With all that gurgling and boiling going on, it was about the gee-rossest thing this reporter has ever witnessed. But then something very unexpected occurred. The sweetest odor crept out of that fireplace described by one student to be like honeysuckles in the spring. And when he patted his polecat on the head and commenced to teaching, well, any thoughts of hightailing it out of there strangely dissipated.

We had a grand old day, just sitting and learning. He was an impressive teacher. Still, several kids were a might unsettled when he used his polecat as a pointing stick. Some of the student body noticed that his five o’ clock shadow appeared to be poking out a little early, around one or two, to be specific. But all in all, it was a mighty good day of education, or so we thought.

PSA - EMERGENCY B-O-E MEETING

After we all left school that afternoon, some of us young’ns got together to play freeze tag and whatnot when we saw Old Lady Cafferty happen by. She turned and spoke to us. “Hey kids, how was school today?” she asked out of curiosity.

“Just fine,” we reported, and we all began to spin yarns about our strange new teacher, telling her about all his crazy antics.

Well, it was just about then that some of us noticed Old Lady Cafferty seemed to be getting quite perturbed. Fact was, she turned about as gray as an old possum playing possum.

“Let me ask y’all something,” she uttered in a grave voice, “What’s two times two?”

Well shucks, that was just too plum easy. We all stood up straight, just as right as rain, ready to answer. This was material our new teacher had gone over with us that very day.

“Five,” we all answered enthusiastically.

Well upon that remark Old Lady Cafferty’s eyes grew to be the size of two honeydews. She took off running like a rocket, lickety-split. Half of us couldn’t believe it. Who would’ve known she could run at all, much less so fast? You wouldn’t believe the ruckus that followed in her wake.

Wouldn’t you just know it? In two shakes of a lamb’s tail, half the town was gathered at Courthouse Number One (there’s only one, but we’re hopeful) for an emergency Board of Education meeting. Old Lady Cafferty had all of us kids rounded up and placed front and center of the entire hullabaloo.

“Order, order!” shouted Mayor McFlamble, “What is the meaning of all this Ms. Cafferty?”

Old Lady Cafferty marched right up and said, “I suppose it would be prudent to simply show you, Mr. Mayor.” Upon those remarks she rounded on us and asked, “What’s three times three?”

“Ten,” we all answered, just as proud as peacocks.

The townspeople gasped in shock and terror, which caused us kids to gasp in terror and shock.

Old Lady Cafferty continued, “Who’s the father of our country?”

“ Betsy Ross,” we countered.

Again, shock and terror, terror and shock.

“Whose face is on the penny?”

“George Washington.”

“Spell box.”

“B-O-C-K-S.”

Every time we answered, the atmosphere became more tense.

“Good heavens,” groaned the mayor, “It’s the worst manifestation of misinformation I’ve ever laid my ears on!”

This confused me a little. Why would you want to lay your ears on anything? Wouldn’t that hurt?

“There’s no telling how bad it really is,” said Old Lady Cafferty, “It’s had all day to work its mischief.”

The townspeople all began to murmur in hushed, nervous voices. The mayor, board members, and Old Lady Cafferty were huddled together in a shaky heap, just chattering away. Truth be told, us kids were getting to be a bit shaky in the shoes ourselves. We had no earthly idea what the problem could possibly be. Personally, I was just hoping that I wasn’t in trouble.

Finally, Mayor McFlamble called the meeting back to order. “Parents and concerned citizens, it is clear that we’ve a grave predicament here in Fish Creek, Polk County. Indubitably it is a hoodliwink infestation.”

At that, Mrs. Shoppinshire squealed and fainted, right on the spot!

“There’s no need to panic,” the mayor continued in a panicked voice, “Everyone should go home and get some sleep. But children, I’m afraid you’re going to have to start school half an hour early tomorrow morning. This is imperative. DO NOT FORGET!”

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MoonDom Five

Jon Coley

©️ 2026

For my cousin, Chris. I always go by our family name until you show up.

Disclaimer: Any similarities, either real or imagined, between the characters in this book and anyone else are completely coincidental. I have never been to Jupiter or one of its moons, and I never plan to go on the trip.

Disclaimer 2: This book was completely written by a human being, namely me. It may have been lightly edited by a robot, but it was not the one who vacuums my floors.

Introduction

MoonDom Five Magic System (Known locally as Full Alignment)

Gravity / Active Abilities

Shedding

Ability to transfer weight (not mass) into the atmosphere dropping personal weight almost to a zero measurement. While objects can be temporarily affected, other living beings cannot. Why is not yet known.

Burdening

Ability to transfer weight to other individuals or objects temporarily to the point of physical distress.

Passive Abilities

Insight

Ability to sense weight anomalies in their own bodies down to the molecular level and in others’ bodies (with intense concentration).

Sensing

Ability to sense the weight differences among other living things in the immediate area. Useful for recon.

Classification Avianoid (Ryder)

Electromagnetism / Active Abilities

Storming

Ability to transfer vast levels static electricity from the area and to redirect it anywhere. A powerful weapon when used sparingly. It’s virtually an unlimited resource during a moon storm, but otherwise, static needs to be recharged.

Sapping

Ability to temporarily drain the electrical charge of other living beings to the point of distress.

Passive Abilities

Insight

Ability to sense the electrical movement in their own bodies down to the molecular level and in others’ bodies (with great concentration)

Sensing

Ability to sense the electrical differences among other living things in the immediate area. Useful for recon.

Classification Voltoid (Gage)

Weak Force / Active Abilities

Alchemy

Ability to change the molecular makeup of most objects. Not an easy Art. Random anomalies can be catastrophic. The affects on objects are usually permanent, but living beings are, for the most part, immune.

Healing

Strangely, inorganic or formally organic compounds can be changed (within limits) rendering diseases and poisons ineffective. Ability works stronger internally, but can also be used on others with great concentration and energy. An experienced Morphoid can self heal all but the most grievous injuries while in battle.

Passive Abilities

Insight

Ability to sense the atomic weight of any and all compounds within their own bodies and in others’ bodies (with great concentration)

Sensing

Ability to sense the differences in chemical makeup among other living things in the immediate area. Useful for recon.

Classification Morphoid (Diem)

Strong Force / Active Abilities

Fusion

Ability to fuse the molecules of the atmosphere around them, thus releasing vast amounts of plasma. A powerful weapon when used sparingly. Since all beings need air to breathe and shelter to live in, this ability must be well controlled.

Fission

Ability to release the atomic energy of any object to the point of explosion. More easily controlled and less dangerous for the user.

Passive Abilities

Insight

Ability to sense the atomic weight of any and all compounds within their own bodies and in others’ bodies (with great concentration)

Sensing

Ability to sense the difference between living and non living things in the immediate area. Useful for recon.

Classification Thermoid (Yarrow)

Alignment

Young people with full alignment are often considered burdens on society. Their “passive” abilities are continually functioning, which drains their entire system, making them weak and lethargic, difficult to keep fed as well. Many do not speak due to the vast amounts of aligned information in their brains. Societies on the four MoonDoms are only too happy to banish them, along with criminal undesirables, to the fifth moon.

Pemmican

Survival food. When prepared by an aligned cook, it is imbued with protective attributes to any aligned consumer. This allows them to use their active abilities without risk of draining themselves to the point of sickness or death for at least one day. It also allows them to thrive physically. Over time, it increases their cellular integrity, providing slightly heightened reflexes, fractionally higher than average strength levels, endurance, and resistant health. Although by no means are they invulnerable, they are more resistant to hardships, such as disease and the elements, than most other people. They can also live up to three times longer due to a slowed aging process, causing some to believe they are immortal.

If an unaligned person does the preparing, it is but a highly nutritious food. While a skilled aligned person may still access his or her active abilities, there is great danger of causing personal harm. Only an aligned person can imbue the enhanced characteristics while cooking it, not afterward. The reason why is not fully known, but it seems to be a symbiotic relationship between the natural purpose of this particular survival food and the preternatural purpose of the aligned cook.

Religion

While there are many religions on the four kingdoms, and most exist in one form or another on the fifth moon itself, there is one origin story in which most agree, the tale of the three siblings. The creator brother, the destroyer brother, and the sustainer sister created the Moondoms’ home planet. For eons, the three enjoyed the their home in harmony until the creator brother heard the call of the maker of the universe to move on. Since the creator left first, the destroyer brother continued his work devouring the land beyond what the sustainer sister could bear. In desperation, she transferred the life-giving remnants of the great planet out into the new atmosphere left by the destroyer brother’s work. Those remains became five moons orbiting the old planet, which had become a gas giant. Upon four of the moons, the sustainer sister cultivated life and spent her time alone on the fifth moon. After a time, she could no longer bear to be without her brothers, so she left the MoonDom alone, albeit with her hidden blessings.

Voltoids 2nd Power

Magnetism is a natural byproduct of electrical energy. This often manifests in novel ways for the Voltoid. Sometimes he may have control over metals in his proximity. This is often not useful, but can be amusing, for he can only affect metals less than half his body weight. A practiced Voltoid can generate a protective magnetic field, generally around five times the area of his body mass, which can provide protection from most metal projectiles.

The Tethers

Travel between the MoonDoms has existed since time immemorial. All four societies fully accepted that the spinning tethers in the thin atmosphere had to be man made, but no scholar could pinpoint the inventors, nor explain why they were so reliable. Only the most esoteric scholars had a reasonable hypothesis, and those were hidden deep in the vaults of the aligned. Messages and goods were launched and received on a routine basis between the four moons when in view of one another. Only the fifth moon ever received people. All cargo were packed in large pods which were filled with an oxygen rich gel. This protected goods, even traded foods, from impact during launch and landing. No one ever checked to see if the people sent to the fifth moon survived their journey. Most of them did.

There is more to the story …

Part the First The Arrival

Chapter One

Shooting Stars

Rowena was not one to suffer foolishness, so the little girl felt particularly self-conscious as she approached the elder matriarch. Granted, she did know that her own mother was once messenger to the aligned, and that Rowena recognized the child’s face immediately from genetics alone, but she more than understood how revered the woman was. Even the elder men, few as there were in her village, bowed to her in respect as she passed. Still, the child wavered before her.

“Speak, Caverling. I’ve quite a bit to do this day.”

Rowena did not use a harsh tone with her, but her statement was more than true. Never ending were the duties of the aligned on MoonDom Five. And she was the only one left. In her two hundred plus cycles, she had spent most of that time as the youngest of her kind. At one point there were thirteen of them. All four houses were occupied. Now, she was the last, sitting alone in her Avianoid dwelling, though only when she felt the call to be alone. Rowena softened as the little girl paled before her. She knelt down to the caverling’s eye level.

“Your name is Ella. Correct?”

The child nodded.

“I remember your mother well. She was the greatest messenger of her time. I was more than happy to accept you into our service upon the day of your birth, little one. But now, I really must insist that you deliver your message. It was obviously deemed important enough to command my attention.”

The child nodded and swallowed the lump of fear in her gullet.

“The astronomers have observed a shooting star, Rowena of the Avianoids.”

Rowena worked to remove the shock from her face. It was not time for a tribute. That could only mean two things, one far more likely than the others. Prisoners were on the way.

“You’ve done well, caverling. Here is my reply. Tell the welcoming committee to meet me at the mouth within the hour. Do you understand?”

The little girl nodded.

“And Ella. Tell your mother I send my regards. Now, off with you. Go!”

As quickly as the child had appeared, she was now halfway down the canopy, the Cavers’ name for the upper chambers above the city. Rowena was impressed how nimble the girl was on the rocks. Every bit as agile as her mother in her day, perhaps more. But there was no time for reminiscing. Rowena had to fly.

Her eyes flashed in color as she adjusted her weight, reducing it to just above zero stone. With the grace only brought about from decades of practice, she leapt across the nearest chasm. Her strength, enhanced by bearing preternaturally increased weight on a regular basis, was more than enough to send her soaring. She even had to move her gravity alignment up a little to land.

Has it been that long since I’ve flown?

It had been quite some time, but she was by no means out of fighting shape. That was good, for battle might have been what she would soon be doing. She was at the mouth, the cave opening to her city, in a few moments. A random consideration of triggering the closing mechanism, which hadn’t been done in more than a century, crossed her mind. She shook off the thought to concentrate on the matter at hand. Having traveled the better part of a league, she knew she would have some time to ascertain the situation better before the others arrived. Allowing her weight to re-centralize, she walked out onto the red Almathean terrain. Just outside the periphery haze, she saw it. Something, or someone, was on the way. It did not appear to come from Io, though it was tricky to tell which tether had slung it, and it could have been any combination of routes. Regardless, a volley was approaching, and time was short.

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Are You Kidding Me?

Funny Kids’ Jokes

Jon Coley

Before you begin, the way this book is organized may be a little confusing. It was originally three different joke books that have now been put together. I didn’t want to get rid of the original chapter headings because some of them were jokes too. I just want to make you laugh, not confuse you. After all, that’s what parents and teachers are for.

Chapter One

In which battles are waged against an octopus and a cardiologist.

What’s an octopus’ favorite self defense move?

The sucker punch.

What’s bubbly and smells like fish?

Shark farts.

How did the octopus know he took a wrong turn?

It ended up on squid row.

Why did the two by four cutoff have to leave the construction site?

Because it was a little board.

If you’re thinking you’re going to throw up, just breathe slowly and think about eating sour cream and cat hair. You won’t be thinking about much else after that.

Would it be a good idea to take a vacation sometime between April and June?

Maybe.

Why do teachers love apples?

You’ve got to have some kind of ammo when it all goes down.

Why was the little boy afraid to go to the bathroom?

He just didn’t have it in him.

Why is the winged lizard going so slow?

I don’t know. He’s just a dragon today.

Poodle to Pug:

Your breed is so wrinkly.

Pug to Poodle:

Your breed sounds like it’s named after a fart.

What’s the difference between homework and farting?

Everybody farts.

The water and ice dispenser is basically the way your freezer goes to the bathroom. Drink up, buttercup!

Your dreams are important, that’s why you should stay in bed longer.

Do you have psychic abilities?

No, just not intuit.

Walking around the house with the lights off is dangerous.

There could be a counter strike.

Maybe I should buy a hyperbaric chamber.

I’ve always thought better under pressure.

I enjoy listening to the radio with frequency.

I got into an argument with a seismologist, but I knew I was on shaky ground.

It’s wise to avoid fighting a cosmetologist, because you’ll always come out looking bad.

A friend of mine is an entomologist. Sometimes he really bugs me.

I stayed at a hotel during an entomologist convention. Didn’t speak a word the whole time I was there, because I knew the place was bugged.

How many entomologists does it take to change a light bulb?

Just one if there’s nobody there to bug him.

I was going to tell off my cardiologist, but I didn’t have the heart.

Why are they called eagles?

If they swam, they’d be called sea gulls. If they barked, they’d be called beagles.

A friend of mine is a philatelist. He really sticks to what he loves.

A friend of mine is a futurist. I plan to meet her later.

A friend of mine is an optometrist. I always keep my eyes out for him.

What’s invisible and smells like oysters?

Otter farts.

Everybody wants to fly like Superman until they have to pick the bugs out of their teeth.

All of you who dislike your legs or think they’re ugly, have you ever stopped to consider that you’re always looking down on them?

What did the out of breath Aussie say when he saw a dingo chasing a little kangaroo?

Wallaby dog gone!

How many Aussies does it take to change a light bulb?

Just one, but he has to turn it in the opposite direction.

Parent: Do you think money grows on trees?

Kid: Somebody hasn’t checked lumber prices lately.

What always has a point no matter how much you argue?

A porcupine.

Never argue with a puffer fish.

They’ll just blow up in your face.

This check engine light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine!

What’s a balloon’s favorite kind of music?

Pop.

I believe your train of thought has gone off the rails.

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Landon

Landon Who?

Landon on your feet is hard to do when you slip on a banana peel.

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Mr.

Mr. Who?

Missed her phone call. I’ll try again later.

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Chris

Chris who?

Christmas is my favorite time of year.

Knock knock

Who’s there?

John

John who?

John us at the party. It’ll be fun.

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Lynn

Lynn who?

Lynn me some money please. I’m broke.

How can you tell if a kangaroo is happy?

It has an extra spring in its step.

Where do royal kangaroos live?

In their bouncy castle.

What did the old tape player say to the new smartphone?

Hey, I’m just keepin’ it reel.

I was wondering whether it was safe to go out in the rain. Then it struck me.

I peered toward the east to view the sunrise. Then it dawned on me.

I trained hard for years to become a master mountain climber. Then I peaked.

Why do grown men tell dad jokes?

Because they don’t want to get in trouble for telling mom jokes.

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Teacher

Teacher who?

Teacher the abc’s and she’ll learn to read.

I feel sorry for measuring sticks and tape measures. They’re rulers, but nobody does what they say.

Every time someone drinks a beer, a bunny dies. It’s true. The ingredients say they are made with barley and hops.

Never listen to a baseball player sing in a boat. It’s pitchy.

Tractor trailers are great life examples. Especially the way they get hitched and move forward.

I almost got lost in the storm because of cloudy vision.

When one frog asked his friend if his leg was injured, he said, “I hop not.”

What should you do if you see a moose? You can always eat it if it’s a chocolate mousse.

If it flies and has feathers but no beak, duck! It’s an arrow.

Do you like windy places?

No, I’m not a fan.

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Almond Joy

Almond Joy who?

Almond Joy-ing this conversation very much.

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Yoda

Yoda who?

Yoda man

Nah, Yoda man

Geese get offended if you stare at them too long. They know you’re taking a gander.

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You Tryna Be Funny?

Jokes for Kids

Jon Coley

For Polly

She was always good for a laugh.

Chapter 1:

And So It Begins

Let’s Laugh Together, My Friends!

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Fourteen

Fourteen who?

Fourteen in class is so rude. You should really just go to the bathroom.

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Frog

Frog who?

Frog it about it. It’s toad-ally not worth the effort.

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Giraffe

Giraffe who?

Giraffe to be careful around wild animals.

Redneck word of the day - Bonus.

Suddenly outta nowhere, a skunk came a bonus. To wit I proclaimed that I smelled trouble.

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Shorts

Shorts a little hard to do, but you’ll get better if you practice.

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Auburn

Auburn who?

Auburn the cookies every time I try baking with that new oven.

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Aubrey

Aubrey who?

Aubrey dog gone! I haven’t seen you in a coon’s age. How the heck are ya?

Redneck word of the day -Your Nation.

Your nation is what happens when you stay well hydrated.

Who called them accusers instead of alligators?

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Tinnitus

Tinnitus who?

Tinnitus the night I finally do something about this horrible ringing in my ears!

Kid 1: How’s band practice going?

Kid 2: Okay I guess, but I decided not to play the lute.

Kid 1: Why not?

Kid 2: Because pirates and thieves are always trying to find them.

Redneck word of the day - Ashley.

Are you Ashley gonna sit there and say that to my face?

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Joe Biden

Joe Biden who?

Joe Biden your time, but you’re eventually going to have to open the door.

Why don’t the other band instruments trust guitars?

Because they’re directly related to lyres.

I wasn’t sure how to throw the boomerang.

But it came back to me.

Redneck word of the day - Distress.

Distress sure is purdy, itn’t it?

Knock knock

Who’s there?

A European

A European who?

A European in the wrong place, and your a cleanin’ it up too.

(Most people wouldn’t stoop so low as to crack a joke like this. I’m not most people.)

A cowboy and his son went horseback riding. They traveled beside a rolling river for a while. The child noticed that the land had gotten less rocky and more sandy. He also noticed his father was looking over at the other side of the river.

“Are we about to cross it, Pa?” he asked.

The cowboy nodded, “Yup, right there at that sand ford, son.”

Kid 1: Remember, if there’s a fire, you should never use the elevator.

Kid 2. I should use the stairs?

Kid 1: I suppose you could try that, but I’d use water.

Redneck word of the day - Wrencher.

Wrencher hands off real good after you warsh em.

Kid 1: After the accident, the insurance company offered my mom a loaner car, but she turned it down.

Kid2: Why would she do that?

Kid 1: She just prefers driving with her family and friends.

Kid 1: Don’t go shopping in that new furniture store.

Kid 2: Why not?

Kid 1: They sell vegan leather.

Kid 2: I don’t understand.

Kid 1: Me neither. Sure vegans are annoying, but there’s no need to do that to them.

Kid 1: Have you’ve decided what you’re going to do when you go to Africa?

Kid 2: Not safari.

Redneck word of the day - Freeze.

People pay attention to what he says, Freeze a real smart feller.

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Hugh

Hugh who?

What?

Hugh who?

Yes?

I don’t believe you thought this joke through.

Kid 1: My parents had a meeting with my teacher yesterday.

Kid 2: Was it intense?

Kid 1: No, it was in her classroom.

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Irish

Irish who?

Irish you’d open the door. It’s cold out here.

Redneck word of the day -Watcher.

Watcher doin, good lookin?

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Vegan

Vegan who?

Vegan-ing to think that you’re never going to open this door.

Knock knock

Whose there?

Lewis

Lewis who?

Lewis a good friend of mine. You know him?

Kid 1: I decided to switch from PC to Mac for my computing needs.

Kid 2: Has it been going smoothly?

Kid 1: Not Safari.

Redneck word of the day - Grace.

Grace your goober peas before you boil em. That’s good eatin.

Kid 1: Did you go to the game last night?

Kid 2: No.

Kid 1: Well, why not?

Kid 2: Because Ashley.

Kid 1: Huh?

Kid: Because Ashley, I’m not that much of a soccer fan.

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The Ghost

of

Dream Gully

Jon Coley

Chapter 1

Cold Wood

Nobody lived in Cold Wood for decades. That was why Suthor went there. He had dug out a solitary life for himself, only visiting the village three or four times a year in order to trade and barter for supplies. It was the way things had to be. He needed to be alone.

There was one companion for him, though. An abnormally large husky that he named Dog was with him at all times. The animal had wandered onto his homestead two years previously. At first Suthor was surprised to see the large canine. There were so few people in the area, and this was obviously someone’s pet. It even had an old leather collar, which Suthor soon removed, thus cementing Dog’s loyalty. But then he remembered what the breed was known for, pulling sledges over long distances of rugged, frozen terrain.

Of course, Suthor didn’t need another belly to feed, but he was quite useful, and ate surprisingly little for a dog of its size. Suthor allowed him to stay, though he did take it with him on his spring journey to the village. No one claimed it, so he was sure to purchase a few extra rations for his companion. For his part, Dog seemed more than happy with the arrangement.

On this winter day, Suthor and Dog trudged through the crunchy snow to check the game traps. It wasn’t too deep for Dog, who was harnessed to Suthor’s small sled. The feel of weight to pull seemed to energize the big beast, making the daily chore more enjoyable.

Suthor liked to check his traps every three days in the winter, but they had to wait out the last big storm for a couple of weeks. Though he doubted that he would find much, the thought of leaving an animal to suffer in the cold still bothered him. Trapping, however, was the only sustainable source of income he could access in Cold Wood. Sure, he grew up with bodgers in the family. He even made most of his own furniture himself using his family’s old tools. But he couldn’t stay in the village waiting and hoping to sell furniture. He had to be alone.

The first two traps were empty, just as he expected. The storm had covered the bait and snares, so he took a few minutes to reset them. Dog lounged around, sprawled out in the snow observing Suthor’s activities.

“You know, Dog, I could use some help,” he teased, “I mean, I wouldn’t wanna inconvenience you or nothin’.”

Dog cocked his head to the side, not fully getting Suthor’s joke.

“I know, I know. You’ve done most of the heavy lifting today. Anyways, we’re gonna have to check the bear trap too.”

Dog stretched out, and rolled over in the snow. His body was pretty much impervious to the cold, a unique husky trait.

“Now, don’t try to talk me out of it. It’s only a little ways off. Anyhow, I wouldn’t want any animal stuck in it for too long.”

Suthor only set a few bear traps each year. He wasn’t interested in their meat, for it was too gamey tasting. To keep his meat stores, he would hunt deer in the late fall. It was one of the few times he made use of his old family rifle. Although a bearskin could catch a pretty penny, he wasn’t interested in that prospect either. He just wanted to keep them away, ever since the day one strolled into his camp, back when he first began coming to Cold Wood to build his cabin. That was as scared as he had ever been. To this day, he had never caught a bear, and was glad of it. He wasn’t sure, but he felt that the beasts recognized the traps as a deterrent. It kept them out of his territory. He hoped so anyway.

“Come on, Dog, let’s get it over with.”

Dog jumped up, all the more eager to resume pulling. Together, man and beast blazed a trail in the snow toward the outer limits of their hunting grounds. Cold aside, they were both enjoying the fresh air and exercise.

After cresting the hillock, Dog and Suthor parked the sled in a copse of skeletal deciduous trees, insuring that it wouldn’t go anywhere without them. Suthor tightened his thick gloves and made ready to search for the trap under the snow. This, of course, was dangerous business. Fortunately, he knew exactly where he’d placed the trap, and when he had checked it before the storm, it had not been moved at all. He used natural landmarks to triangulate his search.

As he carefully removed snow, digging down to the place he kept in his memory, he could tell that the trap had been sprung. A small pang of guilt tickled his heart, but he could obviously tell that it was not a big animal that was lying in the snow pile. If a smaller animal, such as a hare or even a fox, were trapped, it would have died quickly without much suffering. Sure enough, his gloved hand came across a frozen quarry in the jaws of the bear trap. He began to pull blindly, not wanting to remain prostrate on the frozen ground any longer than necessary.

“Feels like we got ourselves a raccoon, Dog. Maybe a fox.”

Dog gave Suthor a raised eyebrow and grunted. Huskies were known for “talking” to people. They would howl back and forth in a way that mocked conversation. Dog shared this trait with his canine brethren, but his conversations were low pitched and gravelly, which Suthor found comical and endearing.

“Well, Dog, maybe I’ll just fix a stew for myself and let you watch me eat it,” Suthor chuckled as he gave the big steel trap a great heave, pulling it from the ice and snow. Then he screamed.

Suthor scrambled to his feet, moving away from the trap as quickly as possible. Dog stood up sniffing the air. Suthor held his gloved hands above his head, pacing back and forth. He kept his eyes closed and muttered to himself.

“No no no. It can’t be. It’s was just my imagination. A trick of the light. We’ve just been cooped up too long, that’s all.”

Finally, Suthor stopped and took a deep breath. He gathered his courage and looked down at the bear trap. His countenance immediately fell. The trap had been sprung, and within it lay, not a fox or raccoon, but a man’s hand. The jaws had severed it just above the wrist. Suthor fell back to his knees.

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Bloody Bones

Jon Coley

For the real Gabby and Winston.

May your bones never be too broken.

Disclaimer:

This book is a work of fiction. Anything real or imagined related to people in the real world is purely coincidental. I mean, who really rides e-bikes to haunted houses?Denial

Anger

Bargaining

Depression

AcceptanceChapter One

Sneaking Out

Winston threw the pennies up into the warm Alabama night. They arced and landed lightly on Gabby’s second story window.

“Come on, come on,” he muttered to himself. He didn’t like sneaking around like this, but Gabby had insisted that it would be best to have their adventure at night. She always had a way of getting him to do stuff that he would never consider otherwise. This time her argument truly was hard to disagree with, though. Night vision video was always way spookier than anything you could shoot in the day time. The brief respite from the “disrespectful” heat of the day was a bonus too. Still, it was creepy having to sneak out at night on his brother’s electric bicycle. They could both get into sooooo much trouble.

Being young teens, they were old enough to go pretty much wherever they wanted during the day in the summer time. They lived in a small Alabama town where everybody knew everybody after all. But sneaking out at night was totally out of the question. How was it that Gabby could always get him to do the stupidest things? Your best friend shouldn’t cause you so much trouble. He figured that was something he needed to think about pretty soon.

“Hey!” a whisper came down from above. Winston looked up to see his best friend, already fully dressed, sticking her head out of her bedroom window.

“Finally,” he whisper-yelled up to her, “Should I meet you round front?”

“Nah, you know I got this. Wait there.”

With that, his young friend climbed through her second story window, and out onto the roof. Then she scuttled down the gutter spout a few feet, and jumped safely onto the grass.

“You should’ve filmed that, you know?”

“I think we’re getting into enough trouble already, Gabs.”

“Fine. Did you bring the bike?”

Winston nodded, “Yup. Got a full charge too.”

“Well, let’s go! This. Is. Gonna. Be. Awesome!”

Winston and Gabby sneaked around the front of her house and got on the electric bike. They only needed to go a few miles away, but it was the middle of the night in a sleepy rural Alabama town. The bike was quiet, and it could go much faster than their regular bicycles with a fraction of the effort. That was why it was the perfect mode of transportation for their mission. They had planned this adventure on the night of the full moon, so they could see without using flashlights too.

Until one experiences summer in the Deep South, their is no way to explain the oppression. The morning firmament disappears mere moments after sunrise. The humidity compounds the heat as the high air pressure insures everyone will feel it for days at a time. Once upon a time, this oppression even influenced the way people built their houses, all of them standing on stubby stone stilts with transom windows and covered front porches. All that was just to survive the long, torturous summers. At night, however, it is different. The heat, if only ever so slightly, abates, and the ever present humidity settles to the ground. Sound does not seem to travel very easily through it for some reason. The overall effect truly is what people call “the dead of night.” That is what Gabby and Winston were driving through with a naively macabre sense of anticipation.

Truth be told, Winston was just as excited about their plan as Gabby was. All his life he was fascinated by it, the place. After he accidentally got Gabby interested in it too, well, it was like he had started a wild fire in her brain. They had done so much research, so much hunting. Now it was finally time to see the whole thing through. None of the other kids in school would ever dare try what they were about to do.

Off they went, staying on the road when they could, but keeping ready to hide in the ditches if they saw any car lights in the distance. Fortunately for them, that never actually happened. No one else in their right mind would be going anywhere near this destination in the dead of the night.

Chapter 2

Setting Up

They hid the e-bike behind a massive ancient oak tree about half way between the road and the imposing gate of the old Weimer Estate. The once manicured lawn had long since become a ragged field, tall blonde grasses swaying in the all too rare summer winds. Gabby and Winston walked about a hundred yards from the road to the gate. There was a crumbling rock wall surrounding the property with a foreboding ornamental iron entrance. The initials W.E. were inscribed with bronze atop the gate bars. Another dozen or so yards beyond the gate, an old lone grave, complete with an iron cage around the monument and coffin space, lay in full view. It was obviously meant to serve as a warning to anyone foolish enough to trespass.

The two youths left the gate and skulked along the wall until they came to some cover. Several shrubs and a few copses of trees had come up in the past few years, and this made the perfect place for them to bivouac. They sat down facing each other and Winston got out his phone, his prize possession. After opening the video app, he switched the settings to night vision. He held the phone up, getting Gabby’s face into full view. A pale green ghostly image of his friend appeared on his screen. It was time for the interview.

“Okay, this is my friend. She’s a bit of an expert on the old Weimer Estate. So can you give us a brief history of this place?”

“Sure. The house is over a hundred fifty years old. It’s one of the first houses in town according to my research. It belonged to a wealthy recluse, named Weimer, of course. He lived here for decades and died in the house. Per his instructions, he was buried on the estate grounds, and his grave is just on the other side of the wall here.”

Gabby pointed behind herself as she spoke, her ghostly green arm glowing in the camera screen.

“So what do we know about this Weimer person?”

“Not much. He was an independently wealthy life long bachelor who kept mostly to himself. Not what you’d call a people person. There were stories in the old gossip rags about some lavish parties he liked to throw for his guests, who were always eccentric out-of-towners. Can’t even tell you much about how he looked, other than that one of his front teeth was gold with a diamond mounted in it.”

“How do you know that?”

“Well, don’t really know for sure. It was just a story one of the women told about him in the old local society gossip columns. They just happened to mention his wicked looking smile and what not.”

“Freaky.”

“Yeah, but what’s really freaky is that this old house is still standing. There have been several attempts to condemn the building, all of which failed miserably. Lawyers would show up with cease and desist orders out of nowhere. Once, back in the 1960’s, they tried to tear down this old stone wall. All their equipment kept breaking down until they just gave up. So the town council finally just decided to leave the place alone, no matter how decrepit and creepy looking it got.”

“And now we’re here. Why won’t you tell our viewers the plan.”

Gabby grinned broadly while patting her backpack, “Oh, I’ve brought some of my climbing gear, and we’re gonna scale this wall. Once we’re on the other side, we’ll take a good look at that weird grave of Mr. Weimer’s. Then we’re heading into the house itself. As far as I know, we’ll be the first people to set foot in their in seventy-five years!”

“And we’ll have the first vids ever too,” Winston chimed in.”

“That’s right. So let’s get started and have some fun.”

Winston stopped the recording, and the two of them began unpacking Gabby’s bag. Inside it was some of her older brother’s pilfered rappelling gear. They picked an inconspicuous spot on the wall that couldn’t too easily be seen from the road and began setting up. Being young and healthy teens, they were able to get over the old wall in no time with little trouble, save a few scrapes and scratches, a small price to pay for adventure. The rest of the night would not go so well.

*

Geoffrey sat down in front of the massive chunk of marble. He hadn’t done the work of his trade in months. True, he loved the vocation, but it was near impossible for him to do since the accident. He had lost several fingers on both hands. Luckily he had saved up enough money to pay his bills for a good while, and it was now just himself and his busybody wife left to care for, since his children were now grown. The melancholy was overwhelming at times, though. What was he supposed to do with his life now? He was too old to start over. The mental pressure and sadness increased upon him every day. Then that Weimer fellow showed up.

He was such a strange man. For some reason, he had sought Geoffrey out specifically. Geoffrey told him that he couldn’t work on monuments anymore, but the man was so persistent. He reluctantly agreed to meet Weimer, though the predicament left him feeling deeply uneasy. The man insisted on shaking hands! It was the first time he had done that in months too. Weimer squeezed Geoffrey’s stubs with a firm grasp and he smiled. Oh, what a wicked smile that man had! His one gold tooth with a shining diamond sparkling in the candle light.

Weimer still requested his work, even though it would be near impossible to get it done within a reasonable timeframe. Geoffrey was going to decline, but the money was just too bloody good. It would be enough for him to retire, which he had never expected to ever do. There was no deadline either, not really. He offered half the money immediately. Had the sum with him! It was more money than Geoffrey had ever seen in one place. The contract stipulated that he be the only one to work on the stone, and that it be this stone specifically.

Geoffrey looked down at the great stone that had taken his fingers and crushed them into nothing. Images of the bloody pulp and gore still flashed in his mind. Oh well, he still had his thumbs, though, and a couple of mangled fingers on each hand. This was going to be so difficult, torturous even, but he would create the perfect monument one last time. He would, once again, pick up hammer and chisel. Such a macabre work to do, though. Weimer had exact specifications. There were poetic verses to engrave along the sides, decorative and complex. They were in a foreign language, probably old German. But the most disturbing feature was the date. It had his birth, his dash, and the date of his death. Did the man know when he was going to die? Surely not!

Geoffrey shook his head. Rich folk were so crazy! Too much time on their hands, something he certainly never had. Nevertheless, Geoffrey was going to get this done one way or another. He would carve this monument to perfection, take the man’s money, and let him worry about shipping it to America. He placed the chisel onto the great marble slab. Awkwardly, he picked up the hammer with his thumb and two fingers. He took a deep breath and struck. Of course he missed the center and the steel of the hammer glanced off his other mangled hand. Pain shot up both arms, and he dropped his tools. Tears came to his eyes, blurring his vision. After a few moments, Geoffrey gingerly picked up his old tools again. It was going to be a long, long winter. As he prepared to strike again, he couldn’t help but feel that he’d made a deal with the devil himself.

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The Bookworm

Jon Coley

For Harper

I always wonder what’s going on in your head.

Prologue

Matthew had a good visit with his brother, Chadwick. He seemed to be more lucid, more attached to reality this morning. That was good. Rare, but good. It was almost like being with the big brother he looked up to in his childhood. The one who read him a bedtime story almost every night when he was little. On his good days, one would wonder why the man had been committed at all. But Matthew knew it was all too temporary. An orca could swim comfortably in a pool that was filled with the tears he’d shed over his brother. Their parents were both gone now. Chadwick’s hair had some gray on the ends now, and it had been this way for so many years now. Soon enough the poor fellow would begin his maniacal rantings about other worldly creatures and dark phantoms. It was such a shame, heart breaking really.

At least today was a good day. The weather was pleasant, and so was the visit. Chadwick had been painting again, the brushstrokes huge with vibrant colors. One could feel the mountains and valleys just by looking at the canvas. Matthew left his big brother at the home for the mentally disturbed and climbed into his old red truck. Slowly the crankshaft turned until the engine finally sputtered to life. It was a long drive back to his house. His back was going to be angry about it too. At least the fall weather was cooperating, and the scenery pleasant this time of year. He wanted to get there before his son got home from school.

Young Brian was such a bright kid. He and his wife were quite proud of him. Matthew was amazed at how driven the boy could be. What a self starter that child was. The only real fear they had was that he was such a bookworm, which was something that made him so much like his uncle.

Chapter 1

Brian loved crisp, autumn mornings. The air was cool, but the sun was quite warm. Light breezes gently tickled the hairs on his arms. He took a deep breath and began his morning trek to school. As the front door closed, he heard his mom telling him to have a good day in her high, almost sing song morning voice. He waved back at the window instead of yelling. That was his nature. He hated having to talk. It was so ... exasperating.

What he did love, though, was reading. The truth was that he loved reading more than playing, which was quite rare for a fifth grader, or any kid for that matter. With the morning home rituals completed, Brian was ready to start his short journey to his favorite place, the private school that he had earned the right to attend for free through an academic scholarship. The school was located in his community, but he was one of the few kids from his working class neighborhood that attended.

It was a good morning to walk to school. The nearby park still proposed the same problem for him that it did every day, though. In the middle of the park, there was a stream. It was bigger than most, but not quite big enough to be called a creek. The water moved fast enough to be heard, the proverbial babbling brook. Brian knew it would be a great deal easier to use the footbridge, which gave easy passage at a wider, but picturesque, point of the stream. This, of course, was one of the main attractions of the park. But he, once again, skirted that path and followed the stream to a more narrow crossing point. There, next to the woods, he crossed with a leap, the cold water splashing off his well worn shoes. Every morning was the same in this way. He would shirk his self prescribed duties to face his fear, as irrational as it was, only to admonish himself for taking the longer route. One day, he would have to cross that old bridge. He didn’t want to end up like his Uncle Chadwick, afraid of his own shadow. Plus, he thought he heard a big animal rustling around in the nearby woods.

The journey between Brian’s home and his beloved school wasn’t too far. He did, like always, have to rush after crossing the stream. Getting to school on time was his responsibility and he took it seriously. So he broke into a jog. Soon the woods gave way to a clearing, and the noble spire of the institution’s main edifice appeared, like an arrow aimed at the sky. He set foot on the concrete sidewalk just as the tardy bell began to ring. Once again, he made it just in the nick of time. Sure he would have preferred to get to campus early, if only to spend more time in that marvelous library filled with old and new books of all kinds and genres, but he was glad to have avoided being late for class. It had been a long week at home during fall break. All his old reading materials had been voraciously consumed long ago. He was eager to get back to his studies.

After retrieving his literature book from his locker, Brian made his way to his first class. His shoes squeaked as he walked due to the stream water and the morning dew, but his weren’t the only ones making that noise. Unlike everyone else, he had already read more than half of the books related to the excerpts in his textbook, another of his self prescribed goals. Part of it was competition, though he knew he was the only one who took the time to actually do this. But he thoroughly relished the stories, especially the classics. He loved fantasy, historical fiction, folk tales, or any good literature really. Reading was his super power, and in his mind, the only advantage he truly had in this world.

Most of the other kids were already seated. This didn’t bother him here like it would have in his old school, where everyone always seemed to stare at the last kid walking in for some reason and there were always the ubiquitous thumps on the ear if you weren’t paying attention. The neighborhood kids were more rough-and-tumble. The classes here were only about half the size of any given public school. The “Dormies,” as they were called on campus were mostly foreign students. About half of them were Asian. Most of the rest were a mix of European nationalities with just a few Africans scattered throughout the grade levels. They were all pretty studious, so chatter was kept to a minimum. Brian was a “Day Dog.” These were usually students from well-to-do, local families. He wasn’t well-to-do, though. He was a scholarship kid. Most of those were for athletics, though there were no dumb jocks on campus to be sure. He was the only academic scholarship recipient in his grade level. There were a few others like him in the high school, but he was the only one in lower school. Still, he was much more comfortable in these hallowed halls than anywhere else, really. Plus, he’d earned his place.

Like the other kids in his literature class, Brian began to get set up. His teacher still hadn’t arrived, but this wasn’t too unusual either. Students were trusted to behave well on campus, unlike the daily situation in his former public school. If you couldn’t cut the mustard here in any way, you were simply dismissed. He respected this policy, as draconian as it may have been, because it was enforced fairly, no matter how rich or powerful one’s family was. There was due process too, with probation, but immoral misbehavior was not tolerated. This actually made Brian even more comfortable. Here he knew where he stood. He hadn’t sported the first black eye since he enrolled, which was a definite check in the win column to his mind.

A few minutes later, the general noise level fell to a complete hush. A man strolled through the door with his nose in an old book. He walked behind the desk and set the book down, still reading it while standing. Some of the other kids looked at each other. Finally, he put a bookmark between the pages and slowly closed the book. Brian noticed a faint cloud of yellowish dust. The old book must have been dug out from deep in the library. Mrs. Griffin, the librarian, was usually incredibly meticulous about keeping her books in pristine shape.

“Good morning. As you can see, I am not Mrs. Courtney, unless she’s a particularly ugly woman.”

He grinned and a few kids chuckled.

“My name is Mr. Dyer, and I have a message from Mrs. Courtney to her students. First, she regrets to inform you that she will not be returning to her teaching duties until after spring break. She had to return to her hometown to take care of some family business. She wished to convey that she still had high expectations from each and every one of you and that she fully anticipated you all being on schedule when she returned.”

Mr. Dyer was slightly odd to Brian. He wasn’t what one would expect to see in a substitute teacher for a private school. Sure, he was well dressed. But it was his demeanor, even his build that was askew. He wasn’t a skinny old bed of wrinkles with thin wisps of white hair floating about his crown. Nor was he a corpulent pile of flesh belonging to a man believing that his body’s sole purpose was but to carry his head around. No, Mr. Dyer was different. While not particularly tall or overwhelmingly muscular, he was lean and well built, what his mom would have called big boned. (She didn’t mean it the way most people do.) But he also wasn’t like his physical education teacher, who only focused on his body and was continually dreaming up new ways to torture little nerds like him. He was so in-between. All that with what seemed to be a dry sense of humor and general good nature was ... off putting to Brian. He didn’t know what to think about the man. It didn’t matter really, he supposed, because he was obviously stuck with him for the next few months, anyway. That is, until his favorite teacher returned. But until then, it looked like it was going to be a long, cold winter. He made space ready in his brain for this day’s surprise. Brian hated surprises.

Chapter 2

The school day was reasonably uneventful. Classes moved on without too much drudgery. Brian was still as glad as ever to be in those hallowed halls. Every moment was validation of his ability and tenacity. He worked hard to be there and enjoyed it thoroughly. Even his physical education class was okay to him. Some days were harder than others in gym class, but there was far less harassment from the other kids in comparison to his old school, which was nice. Sure, Coach Mathis was tough on him, but he was like that with everyone. Brian didn’t take it personally, and sometimes he even had fun.

It wasn’t until recess that Brian saw Mr. Dyer again. He was on his way to the library to return some of the books he’d read over the break, and to hopefully retrieve a book that was on hold for him that covered the psychology of phobias. The librarian, a nice enough lady, seemed nonplussed when he requested it. This didn’t surprise him in the least. It wasn’t the usual book for a fifth grader. But he needed to know why people had such strange fears, and he didn’t want to end up like his Uncle Chadwick. As he opened the door, he saw Mr. Dyer with his nose in a book. The man looked up and gave him a nod.

“It’s a beautiful day outside, Brian. Surprised you’re not playing with the other kids.”

Brian didn’t know what to say. He nodded back to his new teacher and walked up to the librarian to drop off his books. He love the feel and smell of the wax finish on the wooden shelf. He leaned on it as the librarian checked the status of the book in her computer. Unfortunately, it still wasn’t in.

“Sorry Brian,” said Mrs. Griffin, “High school kids never turn in their books on time, even around here.”

“Thank you anyway. I’ll check again tomorrow.”

Mrs. Griffin nodded and resumed her work. For the first time in weeks, at least at school, Brian didn’t have a book in his hands. It felt so strange to him. He thought about browsing, but for some reason, he felt the need to get out of there. However, he had to pass by Mr. Dyer on the way to the exit. Much to his chagrin, the man looked up from his book as he passed by.

“Didn’t have your book, huh? Well, may as well go out and get some sunshine. There won’t be many more days like today this year. Consider it a blessing. Psychology books can be so dull, except for Jung. His stuff is pretty cool.”

“Yes sir,” Brian answered awkwardly. He passed by the man and exited the library. For the first time, he actually went to the school playground of his own accord. This was the one area that was just like his old school. At least it felt that way to him. Some of the kids were running laps, working off their demerits. Most of them were playing tag or swinging. He wasn’t interested in any of that, so he decided to take a walk, the one physical activity he enjoyed because it cleared his mind. It wasn’t until a few minutes later, with the brisk walk illuminated his thinking, that it occurred to him. Mr. Dyer knew his name even though he didn’t take attendance this morning. And he knew what Brian wanted to read!

*

Later that afternoon, it was a perfect day for a walk through the park. Brian knew that it was the way he should go, but he found himself standing between the woods and the other path leading to the bridge. Perplexed by his sense of duty in battle with his sense of dread, the decision couldn’t be made. It was when he remembered his encounter with his strange new teacher that he at last decided to walk by the woods and jump the stream at its narrower point again, regardless of the cold damp that would inevitably sink into his toes. Usually a sense of guilt and shame would ensue, but today he was too concerned with the strange happenings at school, so those emotions ebbed. The image of his new teacher surrounded by golden dust haunted him.

Instead of focusing on what he couldn’t control, Brian used his alone time during the walk to consider his fear of the bridge. He wasn’t afraid of bridges themselves. He had traveled innumerable bridges with his family on various trips. It was only that one bridge in particular. Why did his heart race every time he tried to set foot on those old, rough wooden boards? Even if it were a rickety safety hazard, which it wasn’t, he was a fine swimmer. It was one of his few athletic skills, other than walking. The bridge occupied his mind for the entire walk home.

“Good afternoon, Sweetheart!” his mother sang out cheerily as he entered the kitchen. He just waved and smiled at her. “Your father should be home soon. He went to visit your Uncle Chadwick. How was school today?”

“Fine. We got a new Literature Teacher today. He’ll be replacing Mrs. Courtney until after Spring Break.”

“Oh. I hope everything is okay,” his mother said with a trace of concern as she pulled dinner from the oven. Brian shrugged.

“I don’t know. The new teacher’s name is Mr. Dyer.”

“Hmm, Dyer. I’m not familiar with that name. Well, I’m sure everything will be just fine. Do you have a new book to read?”

“No,” Brian said flatly, but decided to add, “The book I wanted’s not in yet, so I went out to recess.”

His mother smiled in surprise, “Wonderful! Nothing wrong with reading, but you should always make time to play with your friends.”

He nodded, uncommitted to the idea, and left the kitchen. That was the longest conversation they’d had in weeks. It was exhausting for him, but he was glad he could say something to make her smile. She had the kind of smile that began in the heart, came up, and illuminated everything around her. At least something positive could be gained from this strange day. He had no idea how strange his days were going to get.

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Jon Coley

©️ 2024

This book is a work of fiction. All characters are fictitious, and any resemblance to other characters alive or otherwise is coincidental. Seriously, I don’t even know any banshees or Druids.

For Leslie

Cousins are our first best friends.

Dream Journal - Lesson One

The problem with magic is that it is much like water. It can revitalize you and wash you clean or it can drown you. It is a byproduct of life itself, thus often overlooked until you realize you need it. Compounding the problem even further, it is a finite resource. Yes, it is plentiful in some areas, but so scarce in others. Life conglomerates around it, as it must. There is just as much magic today as there was all those millennia ago when life burst forth. However, it is now divided among so many more peoples and tribes, and person magic is the hardest to understand of all, wild and unpredictable.

But just as there are those who know about nature because of their fervent studies, there are those few who know more than most of magic and all its wonders. They study our kind most obsessively, for we are their greatest creation and have become, over time, their greatest enemy. There are some pockets of humanity just as blessed with magic now as we ever were in the ancient past. That is why the Druids know that we can never be free.

It was the Druids who agreed to help the royal families create a bulwark against untimely death, a magical warning system with powerful agents. In those ancient times, wars between clans were ever ongoing, a ubiquitously present danger. The Fae still roamed the wilderness lands in those days too. And so it was to them that the Druids appealed. There were deals, barters, and politics aplenty. After so many negotiations and great sacrifices, a binding bargain was struck and our order was established.

Our tales speak of five women, one for each of the royal families. Again, deals were made for their sacrifice. But they agreed to a lifetime of servitude under their patrons. What was given to the Fae is lost to obscurity, but they did agree to give their blood. Each of the five women were bonded to a Fae familiar, most of which were cats. They were then lain down upon the stone pillar amid the great stone rings and hedges, and Fae blood was spilled into their eyes. Their eyes became red as fire and their hair white as snow. Amid great screaming, the first Banshees were born.

Chapter 1

Sunsets are magical in New Mexico, but Dave Preferred the sunrise. Like he spent most mornings, he breathed in the crisp desert air and prepared for his day. After his morning coffee, he made his way over the outer edges of the RV park, his pan filled with feed. He shook out a little pile here and another there, then he pounded on the pan to let his friends know that breakfast was ready. Right afterward, dozens of hungry quails appeared from the brush, rushing over for their daily meal. The doves cooed in jealousy overhead as a new day dawned in Truth or Consequences.

Croia wasn’t ready to make friends, but the cat was insistent. “Kree-Yah Kree-Yah,” she seemed to say instead of regular mewing. And it was definitely a she. That much was obvious, considering her fur consisted of random splotches and patches of three distinctly different colors. She was a calico. Croia sighed with acceptance and went to get a saucer of milk. It wasn’t the best offering, but it was all she had at the moment.

“Well, Kitty, it appears you already know my name. But what should I call you?”

The scrawny calico cat lapped up the milk greedily, not bothering to answer, quite a cattish behavior.

“I know you’re attracted to my kind, but you should understand, we don’t take familiars. We travel way too much for such as that, or so I’m told. I don’t know how long we’ll be in the land of enchantment.”

“Kree-Yah,” the feline called out again and began to rub itself across her legs. That seemed to settle the matter.

“Okay, okay. I’ll get Maeve to buy some cat food this afternoon. It’ll be good to explore this little town, I guess.”

Appropriately enough, Maeve came to the doorstep at that particular moment and observed the situation. Croia looked up to see her mother’s long red hair glistening in the sunlight.

“You see, Dearie,” she said in her vague, Scotch Irish accent, “You’re already making friends anew.”

Croia looked up at her mother. She still didn’t want to speak to her, although she knew it was an irrational sentiment. In her heart, she could not yet forgive her for uprooting their lives, for turning her whole world upside down. But that having been said, she didn’t really know what else she could have done differently.The young girl’s mind had not wrapped around the new paradigm that was now her life. Upon her father’s death, and her own coming of age, everything had forever changed profoundly. She swallowed down all those churning emotions and relented.

“She seems intent on staying, though I told her to be wary of our kind.”

Maeve nodded sagely, “Yes, tis true enough, but cat folk have their own agendas. You’d like me to pick up some cat food?”

“I told her we would.”

“Very well, then. You’d like to go with me?”

“Sure, Maeve. Let’s see what Truth or Consequences has to offer.”

*

Aodh sat back in the recliner, attempting to make himself more comfortable. He knew he wouldn’t feel pain, but his nerves still got the better of him. This kind of magic hadn’t been practiced for well over a century, and success was far from guaranteed. Still, he knew that fear would not be his friend during this attempt. After all, fear was an emotion instilled in mankind to keep people safe and alive. It could cloud judgment even worse than anger. To get the job done, he needed his mind to be perfectly clear and pristinely focused.

All his brethren had left the room, most taking care of their daily duties. Life must go on. Sure, he knew that he was being monitored, but the low hum of machines was not the same as footsteps, rustling clothing, and the light buffeting of air against one’s skin generated by another’s passing proximity. He became aware that his senses were on high alert.

Finally, he focused. His mind was sharper than it had ever been. His consciousness inverted until, there it was, that little spark of magic all people had. His was stronger than most, assumed due to his mysterious lineage, though strengthened by being raised in the brotherhood. None of his brothers could do this for him, though. This kind of magic was too personal, too primal. He focused on the spark, visualizing it in his mind’s eye. Then he encased it. He could feel different micro-tissues in his body surrounding the luminous pulse. Gently he moved the delicate life force into position, allowing the metaphysical and physical states of existence to almost touch. He took another deep, cleansing breath. The time had come at long last. The magic was momentarily physical, for lack of a better term. It was living light that could be manipulated and moved at will, and his will would be done.

Summoning his courage, Aodh pushed the magic away from himself mentally and physically, exhaling sharply in the process.

Success! Aodh died.

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Jon Coley

©️ 2023

For Raymond, the best father-in-law I’ve ever had.

Any similarities between the characters in this book and anyone else, either real or imagined, are purely coincidental. Chapter 1

The Strangers

When meeting strangers, it is of utmost importance to have two things, a winning smile and a shotgun.

Edward

She did not know why she did this to herself. Simoriah washed her hands in the basin. Dinner had been finished and the boys had gone out to play. Being five years older than the youngest and always a dutiful daughter, she and her adoptive mother, Shannon, tidied the kitchen. As she poured the water over her palms, it beaded and rolled off into the basin leaving her hands bone dry, as always. Her mind went through the same routines. There was no need of it. Dirt, even mud, was repelled without exception. Her hands were clean anyway. She was so different, so weird. She had been born with a rare skin condition, which made her skin less porous than most normal people. Perhaps she was the only such case in the world. The doctor had told her parents that it wasn’t connected to any syndrome he knew of, and they should not worry on it. For her part, Simoriah was upset that the family had spent so much money on her, money they all needed. She pushed the thoughts from her mind and wiped her hands, though they were already completely dry, on her apron.

“I’lll go check on the boys, Shan.”

“Thanky Dear,” she muttered as she sat down to snap peas.

It was a lovely evening in Rim Country. There was a light scent in the air from the flowers and the Ponderosa Pines. A gentle breeze danced on the scrub brush and the sparse, tall grasses waved gently. Simoriah looked across the field until she spied her brothers, Abe and Jack. She didn’t plan on calling them back to the cabin right away, but their peculiar body language caught her eye. Her brothers had vivid imaginations and were prone to fancies, so she did not hurry, until she felt the presence.

Suddenly, the air seemed heavier to her. Every fiber of her body wished to recoil. It felt strangely familiar, though she could not specifically remember the experience in any of her fourteen years. Instinctively she knew that if she shouldn’t be there, her little brothers definitely needed to go too. Simoriah pushed against the uneasy sensation, and ran across the field to them.

As she came up behind her brothers, the heavy air palpable on her skin, they both turned with their index fingers in front of their mouths. Simoriah took the queue, and crouched down next to them behind the shrubs that they had been using for cover. They pointed into the distance, but it wasn’t really necessary, for her senses came alive and were immediately drawn to the scene unfolding before them. Her eyesight and hearing had always been better than most, so she knew she could pick out details that the boys would miss. She could hear what was being said too. It was a moment she would never forget.

Two men were standing at the crossroads about an acre away from them. They were both tall, probably the tallest men she had ever seen. One was muscular and dressed in a ragged coat, though he did not look dirty. The other was even taller, but had a considerably thinner build. It was the latter that was speaking.

“You know it ain’t right, Ham. Leave it be!”

His speech was heavily accented, but Sim could not place it. The other muscle bound man seemed to take an aggressive stance upon hearing the thin man’s remarks.

“And since when do I take my orders from you?”

“Don’t do it Ham!”

The muscle bound man threw a mighty hay bailer punch, but the thin man jumped back, barely dodging it. Then they began to grapple.

Simoriah felt the hairs on her arm stand up. Instinctively, she grabbed at the boys’ overall straps and beckoned them to get back to the cabin. Just as they began to comply, a bolt of lightning flashed, the thunder booming like a war cannon with it. The blast was so hard that the three youths fell to their knees, grasping their ears. Simoriah recovered first. After seeing that the boys were alright, she crept up low along the ground behind the shrubs.

The two men were lying flat on their backs about thirty yards apart from each other. It had been a direct hit, their bodies were smoking. The smell of burning flesh wafted in the air, making Simoriah sick to her stomach. Her blood ran cold when they slowly sat up.

“Looks like someone still has some favor,” the man called Ham grumbled.

“I’ve got nothin’ to do with the storming. That be your family tradition.”

“Regardless, the message is received. This is over for now, but stay out of my way. You’ll be regrettin’ it otherwise.”

With that, the two men got up and walked in opposite directions. Simoriah couldn’t believe what she’d just seen.

“Sim … Sim!” It was Shan calling from the cabin door.

“Oh no! Mah will skin us for sure,” Jack, the youngest, wailed to his big brother.

Simoriah was just happy that they could both still hear. Her own ears hadn’t yet stopped ringing. None of them had ever been so close to a lightning strike in their lives. The odd smell of ozone and burnt dust filled her nostrils, driving home the eerie atmosphere of the scene.

“She’s just worried about that thunder boomer, Jack,” Sim consoled him. “Let’s get back to the house. I think we’ve had enough adventure for one evening. “

The three young people made haste back to their mother’s door and ran inside. Shannon ushered the boys in, obviously relieved that they were well. Before Simoriah could go in, however, she had to turn back and look. Both men were gone from the crossroads. Her unique vision allowed her to sense that one had traveled back toward the village, the other toward the rim. She hoped that was the last she would ever see of them, but a small intuitive fear gripped her heart.

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