Save me a Story – Ask a Question

Posted on April 1, 2023 by hdh

This story begins my adventures in the tale: Save me a Story. The introduction of this story was given in the A to Z Theme reveal post. If you wish to read the introduction, then click on this link: https://www.hdhstory.net/Storyblog/?p=3431. If you choose not to, I’ve summarized the intro in the first paragraph.

Ask a Question

A mysterious mystic in my world told me that I was prophesied to do this task. I was to find all the stories that had been stolen and return them to their proper place. That place – the Kingdom of Selat. Then all of a sudden, she disappears, and I end up here, standing in the middle of an unknown village in Selat, tasked to find stories. How am I to do that? 

Under normal circumstances, I would ask someone questions as to the disappearance. However, as far as I could tell, no one was around to ask. 

I walked slowly down the main road, peering into each window of the buildings I passed. The town seemed rather old. The houses were all made of wood, not refined and well-cut wood, but more of scraps of lumber that had been pieced together. It reminded me of an old-fashioned western town from the 1800s, based on what I’d seen in history books and on TV. 

I called out for help every 50 feet but got no response, just the sound of the wind blowing through the town and my feet shuffling along the road.

I finally stopped at what appeared to be a storefront, as there was a sign over the doorway that read, “Ask your questions here. Limited supply. ” 

I found that an unusual name for a store.

There was no bell or knocker on the door, as was the case in the other buildings I had passed. But as I approached the door, it swung open. 

I cautiously stepped into the room and again found no one there. I walked up to what would seem to be a counter. A bell was on it, the kind you see in hotels to call for a clerk when no one is there. I tapped the bell. Its sound rang pure and echoed through the room.

A voice called out, “Ask your question.”

“Where is everyone?” I asked

The response was, “That was your first. You have two more.”

“But you didn’t answer my question,” I said.

The only reply that came was, “You have two more.”

Not having any other alternative, I asked another question. “Do you know what has happened here?”

The response was, “Not a wise question. You have one more.”

I thought carefully about the last question. “Where have all the stories gone?”

There was a pause before the voice spoke again.

“Your answers are – They are looking for the stories. Yes. and They have been taken far away to the north. That ends this transaction. You must now leave something as payment.”

“What should I leave?’ 

“Your questions have been used up.”

“Then I guess that is exactly what I’m leaving with you. A question.”

“Well done,” was its reply. “Till we meet again.” 

Continued in … Beaver

 

Posted in A to Z Blog Challenge 2023, Original Stories, Storytelling, Writing | Tagged , | 7 Comments

Save me a Story – Intro

Posted on April 1, 2023 by hdh

Save me a Story

In the beginning…

The door opens, and I look into the eye of the mystic I was directed to. Why, you may ask? Well, it all started when I woke up this morning.

I had been dreaming I was in a car. Dawn was approaching. As the sun began to rise, sunshine hit the front of the car I was in, and I was blinded, so I pulled off the road and stopped the car. I got out, and standing there was a woman. She stood about 5 foot 6 and had short blond hair and eyes that were vivid green. She stared straight at me. Her eyes were what attracted me, or should I say, mesmerized me. 

She said only a few words. It was an address and a request that I go there. Then she turned and walked away. 

Under normal circumstances, I would mark her as a crazy lady or another one of my vivid dreams, but the look she gave me bewitched me. So when I woke up, well… here I am.

The mystic asked me to sit down. I realized this mystic was the woman I had seen in my dreams. 

“I asked you here for a reason,” she said. “I am the gateway to any number of kingdoms. And you are needed in one of them.”

Not knowing what she was talking about, I asked, “Why me? And what kingdom?”

Her answer was quick, ”Because it has been foretold, and it is the kingdom of Selat.”

This did not make it any clearer. “What do you mean….”

She stopped me before I could finish my question. “You are a bearer of tales, are you not?”

I nodded yes.

“In Selat, all the stories that have existed have been stolen. Therefore it is your task to discover where they have been taken to and to bring them back. What has happened in Selat also threatens your world. Once stories are gone, there is no history, no learning from generation to generation; there is no true existence.”

I didn’t know how to respond, and she sensed that. So she said only one thing. 

“Just do it!”

And she disappeared, as did everything else around me. I found myself alone in an uninhabited village in this new kingdom called Selat.

Where to begin…?

————–

Continued in … Ask a Question

Posted in A to Z Blog Challenge 2023, Original Stories, Storytelling, Writing | Tagged , | 29 Comments

A preview – You’re all invited

Posted on March 30, 2023 by hdh

A Preview – You’re all invited

I was substitute teaching in a 3rd-grade classroom. There came a time when I got to tell the class a story. I referred to the tale of the Three Billy Goats Gruff in my story. I asked the students whether they had heard of the tale before. None of them had. We discussed what stories their parents read to them or told them when they were younger. Sadly, many of the traditional stories I mentioned they had never heard. Some students said that their parents don’t read to them because their parents think their kids were old enough to read by themselves. 

Even though my own parents didn’t read much to me as a child, I was still immersed in folk and fairy tales. I’m sure my life now would be different if I didn’t have those stories back then. We seem to be losing the culture and lessons learned from telling and reading traditional stories as modern society moves away from them and changes or bans them because they are not PC. Those stories are fading from our existence. I feel that is a tragedy. 

———–

Red Riding Hood was on her way to the three bears’ house. She had just received an invitation to a meeting in a local village to discuss what could be done about the changes in people’s attitudes towards folktales. She thought that Goldilocks would be interested in going too and knew just where Goldilocks was. When she got to the bears’ house, she found the door open, one porridge bowl empty, a broken chair, and upstairs – three empty beds.  

The meeting was important to Red, so she took off her riding hood, left a note in its pocket, saying, “Gone to Granny’s. You know the way,” and draped her riding hood over the window sill where Goldilocks could find it. She then went to her grandmother’s house, told granny she was attending a meeting, and left a note for the woodsman explaining she was concerned about a wolf and her granny’s health.

Rumplestiltskin was frustrated and angry about how his name was besmirched by that girl who had promised him her first child. He had received an invitation to a meeting of all the bad/evil characters of stories to discuss what could be done to change their perceived reputations. He definitely was going to that meeting.

Many characters from folktales, fairy tales, and stories written were receiving these invitations. Those meetings did take place. However, they were all traps to capture those characters through magic. Their memories would be wiped, so they could not remember who they were or the story they were part of. And then they were whisked away by more sorcery. 

A mystic had tasked me to find all these characters and stories and return them to their proper place. And somehow, my friend Ronald got involved too. 

Beginning on April 1st, follow the 26-part story of what happened in my quest as I tell all in the 2023 A to Z Blog Challenge. I will post daily links on my Facebook page and LinkedIn.  Or you can just visit my blog – https://www.hdhstory.net/storyblog each day in April (except on Sundays). The links for each part will go live 5 minutes after midnight EDT on the day that section is supposed to be posted. Clicking on them earlier will only say Not Found, so you don’t get any previews. You can comment anytime directly on the blog if you wish to. 

I hope you all will read my “Save me a Story” tale and enjoy it. Here is the link for A – “Ask a Question,” which will begin on Saturday, April 1. https://www.hdhstory.net/Storyblog/?p=3434

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A Lunch Surprise

Posted on March 14, 2023 by hdh

A Lunch Surprise

My friend John was visiting the city. He had been a very close friend. He left the city five years ago to become an executive director at a large company in D.C.  I continued as a teacher, living in New York. We hadn’t communicated much since he moved.  It was great getting together with him after all these years. 

I invited him out to lunch at our favorite restaurant on 5th Avenue. We talked a lot about our families and things we remembered from the past. Neither of us brought up our jobs. This was supposed to be a nice lunch. I’m sure his life as a director and mine as a high school teacher of delinquents wasn’t a topic that would raise our spirits. As we finished a wonderful lunch, John looked at his watch and said he had to go. There was an appointment he had to keep. As I was the one that had invited John to this lunch, I said I would pick up the check. He thanked me, said we should get together again soon, and then got up and left. 

The waiter came and gave me the check. He nodded at me, glanced at the check he had handed me, and left. 

I checked that the bill was in order and was about to put down cash for the meal when I noticed in small writing on the bottom of the bill. It was a curly arrow with the words turn over written below it. 

I turned over the bill and could not believe what I saw. Written on the back, in pencil, quite clearly, was my social security number with the message, “Meet me in the back parking lot.”

I looked around, but the waiter was nowhere in sight. Luckily, I had a pencil in my pocket, so I carefully erased the message and my social security number. I made sure no one could read it. Then I got up, worked my way outside, and cautiously approached the parking lot. I did not see anyone there.

I was about to leave when a car pulled beside me. The passenger window rolled down, and the driver (who happened to be the waiter) said, “Get in.”

I seriously thought about running away or pulling out my phone and calling the police, but then I remembered this guy had had my social security number; that’s not something you look up in a phone book or online. I needed to find out what was going on. So I entered his car, and he drove off. 

He didn’t drive very far. We ended up turning into an alley and stopping. I was very concerned about what was about to happen. 

He first took out a badge and an ID card and gave them to me. It said his name was Daniel Efram, and he worked for the FBI. 

I handed him back the ID and badge and asked, “How did you get my social number, and what do you want with me?”

He said, “Didn’t you read the ID? I work for the FBI, so getting your social number is just a matter of course. As to why I need you, that will be determined by whether or not I can trust you and whether or not you are willing to help our country. Now tell me about Harry and what you know of him.”

“Who’s Harry?” I asked.

“The guy you were having lunch with,” was his answer. 

Even more confused, I told Agent Efram all I knew about John and how we knew each other and had been friends.

“That’s good,” Efram said. “That could work in our favor.”

“What do you mean?” I again questioned. 

Agent Efram then went on to tell me who John or Harry really was. It seems he was a suspected agent of a foreign government. He had been sent here to spy on a special government weapons project. He was the director of a big company, but that company had ties with this foreign government. The FBI had no actual proof if or how he was involved. But his using a false name made his possible involvement more likely. They needed someone to get close to him that didn’t work for him to find out what was really going on. It turns out I was that guy. 

“But how am I supposed to do that?”

Agent Efram sounded confident when he said, “It’s simple. We’re going to transfer you to a new school in D.C. which happens to be near his company. He did say you both should get together soon. Well, getting this new job in D.C. should make that happen sooner than later. Then all you have to do is get to know him better. Find out whatever information you can and get it to us.” 

I was really skeptical. But as I hated my teaching job here, and the pay I would get at this new school was higher, with better benefits, what did I have to lose? I said yes. 

It would have been nice of the FBI to tell me they would deny any knowledge of me and what I was doing by accepting this assignment. It might have been written somewhere, but I never noticed it. Had I known, I might not have taken this assignment.

——

It’s been three months since I’ve worked here in D.C. John and I did rekindle our relationship. The more I asked him about his work, the more suspicious he must have become. For it wasn’t long before there was a knock at my door, and when I answered, two women stood there and asked to see my driver’s license. And once they verified who I was and showed me their IDs, I discovered both worked for the real FBI, as did John.

Now I’m being accused of working for a foreign power.  I wonder if I can get my old job back in New York. It’s much less confusing there. 

 

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A to Z Challenge Blog 2023 – Theme Reveal

Posted on March 12, 2023 by hdh

A to Z Blog Challenge 2023 

Theme Reveal

In a writing group I attended, we were given a story prompt and had 20 minutes to write a story to share. When I finished sharing my story, several participants suggested that I use that story as an introduction to a series of connected stories. I decided to take them up on their suggestion. What follows is the revised story I wrote that day as an introduction to the rest of my A to Z Blog Challenge for 2023. In the end, it will be a complete tale. This is my eighth year doing the Challenge and my first attempt to use all the alphabet letters as part of one story.

Save me a Story

The door opens, and I look into the eye of the mystic I was directed to. Why you may ask? Well, it all started when I woke up this morning.

I had been dreaming I was in a car. Dawn was approaching. As the sun began to rise, sunshine hit the front of the car I was in, and I was blinded, so I pulled off the road and stopped the car. I got out, and standing there was a woman. She stood about 5 foot 6 and had short blond hair and eyes that were vivid green. She stared straight at me. Her eyes were what attracted me, or should I say mesmerized me. 

She said only a few words. It was an address and a request that I go there. Then she turned and walked away. 

Under normal circumstances, I would mark her as a crazy lady or another one of my vivid dreams, but the look she gave me bewitched me. So when I woke up, well… here I am.

The mystic asked me to sit down. I realized this mystic was the woman I had seen in my dreams. 

“I asked you here for a reason,” she said. “I am the gateway to any number of kingdoms. And you are needed in one of them.”

Not knowing what she was talking about, I asked, “Why me? And what kingdom?”

Her answer was quick, ”Because it has been foretold, and it is the kingdom of Selat.”

This did not make it any clearer. “What do you mean….”

She stopped me before I could finish my question. “You are a bearer of tales, are you not?”

I nodded yes.

“In Selat, all the stories that have existed have been stolen. Therefore it is your task to discover where they have been taken to and to bring them back. What has happened in Selat also threatens your world. Once stories are gone, there is no history, no learning from generation to generation; there is no true existence.”

I didn’t know how to respond, and she sensed that. So she said only one thing. 

“Just do it!”

And she disappeared, as did everything else around me. I found myself alone in an uninhabited village in this new kingdom called Selat.

Where to begin…?

————–

And so begins my journey. Who will I meet? Where are the stories? What obstacles will I face? Will I get assistance? Will I succeed? 

All will hopefully be revealed by the end of the Challenge. We’ll start on April 1st with Ask a Question and end on April 30 with Zeitgeist. Hope to see you there. 

Posted in A to Z Blog Challenge 2023, Original Stories, Writing | Tagged , | 10 Comments

But it’s Magic

Posted on March 11, 2023 by hdh

But it’s Magic

“It’s magic,” he says. 

“No, it’s not! I saw you push the switch,” was my reply. “What makes you think that you can fool me like that?”

“I’m not fooling you. It really is magic.”

We were at a standoff. This happens all of the time. I’m the adult, and he is the child. I don’t know how to convince him that when he pushes the switch and the lights turn on, they are connected to the switch and electricity, which completes the circuit that turns them on and off. 

“Then I’ll try it a different way,” he shouts. “I’ll use my magic word.” He closes his eyes and calls out, “SIRI, dim the lights.”

 And the lights begin to dim. “See, I told you, it’s magic.”

“No, again. Our Apple Homepod responds to the S-word and activates the wireless signal to dim the lights. It’s not magic!”

It would appear that nothing I can say will convince this child that there is no magic and that everything is connected somehow to technological advancements in science. 

“Okay,” I say, “Make something happen that is not in this room, like make a phone ring in the kitchen.”

I watch as he closes his eyes tight and mumbles something I can’t quite understand. The next thing I hear is the phone ringing in the kitchen.

“What?… Wait a minute.” I go to the kitchen and pick up the phone. It is the wrong number. I go back to the living room and confront him again.

“That was just a coincidence,” I say.

“No, it’s not,” he replies.

I’m getting tired of this game. “I quit,” I grumble, rather frustrated, “If you think it’s magic, then so it is. But you’re never going to get me to believe it. I’m a scientist. I’m going back to my workroom to read a book.” 

I looked at him. He had a mysterious smile on his face. He closed his eyes and again mumbled something that I couldn’t quite understand, and the next thing that happened, I found myself sitting in a chair in my workroom with a book in my hand.”

The title of the book was The Art of Magic.

“What the…?”

 

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In into the Cold or What could possibly go wrong?

Posted on March 9, 2023 by hdh

In into the Cold or What could possibly go wrong?

Did you ever find yourself in a walk-in freezer, and someone closes the door behind you? Finding oneself in a freezer with no light and access to an exit can be a frightening experience. Had I known that this would be where I’d end up, I probably would not have entered the freezer, to begin with. 

I’ve seen Rocky before. You know, in the scene where he needs to get in shape for an upcoming fight, he goes into a butcher’s freezer and starts punching all the hanging meats. He’s only wearing a hooded sweatshirt for warmth. How hard could that be?

While the butcher’s back was turned, I slipped into the back, found the freezer, opened it, and got inside. It was lighted then. I looked around for an appropriate hanging torso to punch. Well, it turns out there is none. 

Before I can turn around to leave, the door shuts, the lights go out, and I am trapped in a freezer, blind due to a total lack of light, and unable to get out. 

Unlike Rocky, I at least have the sense to be wearing a warmer jacket. However, that does not prevent me from feeling the cold slowly seeping in. 

Were you ever so cold that you thought that packing raw meat on your body would make you warmer? I can tell you for a fact that it doesn’t. Well, I think it doesn’t. First, it was hard to see what I was packing on my body in the dark, but it felt like raw meat. 

Needless to say, I was sure I would freeze to death when I heard the door open, and there was a flash of brightness as the lights in the freezer came on. 

Were you ever caught by the butcher’s assistant standing in a cold freezer, covered in a goop that must be used to clean freezers?

“WHAT THE ….?” came the voice of said assistant. 

Let’s just say that I was escorted out of my present predicament, through the store of waiting customers, out onto the street, whereupon I had to find my way home. 

Did you ever try to get a cab or take a bus covered in smelly slime so you could find your way home? It turns out you can’t. 

I had to find someone to let me call using their phone so that I could get picked up.  Luckily my friend Ronald was home to help. After all, this whole thing was his idea. 

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Writing on a Prompt – A futile effort

Posted on March 2, 2023 by hdh

Writing on a Prompt – A futile effort

Welcome to my dream world. A world of ordinary. A world of bizarre. In the case of some dreams, a world of utter nonsense and confusion. 

My dreams are not limited to nighttime. They occur wherever and whenever they feel like it. 

For example, right now. Do you think I am sitting here writing a piece on nurturing in front of my computer? I am, but I am not sitting in front of my laptop as I do this. I am inside the womb of an expectant mother. Here I am, all curled up with a tube feeding me nourishment, providing blood, and feeding me genetic material to help define what I will look like. 

Wait a minute; I just received a genetic trait that will make my nose big. I think I’ll give my mom a good kick to let her know I don’t like that trait and want her to take it back. What’s that? She likes being kicked; she is letting others feel me kick her. Just wait until I get out of here. I bet she won’t be too pleased when I kick her then. That’ll surely nurture her a lot. 

As I said, welcome to my dream world. This was probably different from what you expected for a writing piece on nurturing. Some people say that I’m creative. Personally, it’s not me. I think my mind has a mind of its own. 

I wish I had a way to nurture my mind to be creative and do what I want it to do instead of having it go off on its own and give me stories that make me seem weird. 

What I need is a dream manager. One that I can control and direct to create the stories I want to write and share. I also want one with a better filing system. Those nighttime dreams with great ideas always seem to disappear when I wake up; if you’re going to create all of these fantasies, at least set up a database that can store, sort, and retrieve them.

But that is my dream world, interacting with my real world again. Actually, I am sitting at my computer trying to write a piece about nurturing. Who knew? 

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Leave me alone!

Posted on February 16, 2023 by hdh

Leave me alone!

“I want to be left alone. I want to be left alone! Don’t bother me!” 

These are words that Charles continued to say each time there was a knock on his door. But was he left alone? No.

If he was at home, it was a mother or his sister. They always wanted to have him do something. Or they always gave him some misguided advice. 

“You need to make friends.” 

“You need to do something that helps us around the house.”

“You need to stop being so selfish.”

Then when he went to school, it was the same thing. Only this time, he was in a room filled with people. And the knock at the door was usually to allow someone to enter the classroom. And he didn’t want to be there. He was convinced they were coming to the room to see him, even when they said differently.

“I just want to be left alone!”

It reached a point where the school, and his family, had no choice, and they referred him for counseling. 

This didn’t help at first, for it was just another person that wanted to get into his head. But then the counselor tried a radical new approach. Whenever Charles came into the room for a session, the counselor welcomed him and then left him alone in the room for the hour he was scheduled for.  The only difference was that the counselor left a kitten in the room with him. 

That kitten was one of a pair of identical kittens, the other being one that his family allowed him to keep in his room.

At first, Charles stayed in the room and did nothing, but eventually, he began to focus on the kittens. And he began to talk to the kittens.   

Charles knew he was being recorded, but he was still alone, which was important to him. And the more he shared with the kittens, the more everyone learned about what was going on in Charles’ mind. 

Charles revealed his fear of being different. His fear of others’ opinions of him. And the kittens just listened. In fact, the kittens comforted him. They purred when he touched them and chose to play with him unconditionally. They expected nothing from him but companionship and love. And that is what he gave them. 

Understanding this, his family, counselor, and classmates changed their behavior instead of asking Charles to change his. 

As time moved forward, so did Charles’s reactions to everyone. Over time, he changed also. 

As kittens grow into cats, Charles grew as a person. Yes, he still liked being alone at times, but now he functioned better with others with a mutual understanding that one can be different and still be accepted. 

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Added Voices

Posted on February 12, 2023 by hdh

Added Voices

There is not an animal that I won’t give voice to. When I was in Junior High School, the path I took, walking to school, always passed by this squirrel. I nicknamed him Rod. We would have conversations every time we passed each other. 

I would say “Hi” and ask him how his day was going, and in my head, he would respond. Our conversations were short since he never was one to chat very much, and he was much too busy to stop and spend any more time with me than necessary. I also had to be on time for school.

This behavior of mine continues to this day.  When I was young, the conversations were one-sided from outside observers’ points of view since all squirrel voices were in my head. As a grown-up, I have no inhibitions to verbalizing what any animal I’m interacting with is saying or thinking when other people are around.

We feed two feral cats, Thunder Snow and Kid Thunder. They at least stick around for lengthier talks, though Thunder Snow has never uttered a sound in the six years we’ve been feeding him. Kid Thunder at least meows periodically. It doesn’t stop me from saying what’s happening in their heads.

Wild animals, like deer, countless birds, and even bugs, have shared their thoughts through my voice. 

I find that interacting with animals through my voice and having conversations about life, in general, is very comforting. It calms me down. It also helps my creative juices flow as a writer and a storyteller. 

So if you happen to pass by me and it looks like I’m talking to myself out loud, you might want to look around the area or where my eyes are focused, for chances are there is something out there that I am talking with. If you’re unsure, ask the tree I’m standing next to. I’m sure it’ll tell you who or what I’m conversing with. It might even suggest that you join in. 

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