A. L. Kaplan

Category: Short Story

  • Pup O’ Lantern

    Damn that witch. Like it’s my fault her field had the best pumpkins in town. How was I supposed to know it was hers? Not that it mattered. Hey, in my hood, if you want something you take it, and be dammed everyone else. It’s called survival, and I was at the top of the food chain. Of course I took the biggest pumpkin. Nothing but the best for JP Pish. That’s Mr. Pish to you.  At least I was at the top before she caught me taking her prize pumpkin. I would have knocked out the old hag. Really I would have, but something tripped me up.

    Now I’m in this ridiculous four legged form. Big tough guy like me, you’d think a nice big Rottweiler or even a Doberman. But no, she had to turn me into a wimpy little fluff covered yap machine. If that wasn’t bad enough, I’m stuck in a goofy pumpkin costume. I’m so humiliated. She said I owed her for losing the pumpkin prize at the fair. I have to get first prize for cutest dog at the Halloween masquerade or she’ll never turn me back into a human. I swear, one more person rubs my head and says how ‘cute’ I look I’ll bite their hand off.

    Oh God, here comes another. Wait a minute, she’s hot.  Man, this one can pet me all she wants. Come closer, honey. Mr. Pish has some kisses for you.

  • The Posse

    Two days of hard riding with nothing to show but parched throats and dust. Now the red rock of the wall loomed ahead, the perfect spot for the Cheyenne Kid and his gang to pick off the posse. Marshall Briggs pulled up hard on his reins as a figure materialized out of nowhere. The slim woman didn’t flinch as the horse skid to a stop an inch away She looked tired and worn.

    “Thank goodness you caught up. They know you’re here and won’t give up their prize lightly.”

    A prize. That’s all Kate was to them. Marshall pulled his hat off and raked his wiry hair with enough force to pull some out. He pretended to scan the hills as Kate continued, restraining the urge to respond by grinding his teeth. Only he could see her astral projection. It wouldn’t do to be seen talking to himself. If anything happened to her. . .

    “There’s a spot to rest just over the next rise. We need to act now or they’ll kill everyone.”

    Seemed the Kid’s gang only understood one language. Marshall dismounted, signaling the rest of the posse to gather around. “I’ll scout ahead.  Wait here for my signal.”

    Sunshine faded as Kate led Marshall to the hiding place. A moment later Marshall’s spirit slipped from his body and followed her into the Kid’s camp. Kate’s body lay curled in a ragged ball, ropes bound tight. Dirt stained her torn dress. The Kid knelt next to her, running a filthy hand over her cheek. Anger tightened Marshall’s chest and his vision wavered.

    Energy swirled around Marshall and he grabbed the Kid by the throat with and icy grip, flinging him across the clearing. The Kid’s eyes widened. All he saw was a freak zephyr spinning across the camp. Five of the gang fell from the cliff. Three more froze to the rocks, no more than human icicles. Even the toughest outlaw has a weakness, and weird stuff didn’t suit the Cheyenne Kid. He screamed and dropped his gun as the ground under his feet rippled, swallowing him to the hips before solidifying.

    “Marshall.”

    Kate’s voice broke through Marshall’s rage. He saw the Kid struggle and scream in his half grave, even more so when fire leaped to a nearby bush like a living animal. He was hardly a threat in his present state.

    “The posse should be along soon, Marshall. I’ll be fine until you get here.”

    “I’m sorry I took so long,” said Marshall. He turned away, and then paused. “I love you, Kate. Always have.”

    Kate smiled. “I know. Now go back to your body before you dissipate.”

  • Run of Luck

    “You in or out?” asked the dealer.

    Jeff slammed his cards on the table. Every eye in the room turned. The last of the billions he had inherited disappear into the dealer’s box. This riverboat gig had been his last hope. All his dreams were blown to hell. Now he had no family, no home, and no way to buy his next meal.

    Real gamblers don’t like it when you owe them money, especially these. A sharp wind practically tore Jeff’s shirt off as he landed on the river bank miles from the next town. The landscape lay eerily silent under a blanket of snow as the boat floated away. His only chance now was to walk and pray he find shelter before freezing to death.

    It was a glowing light that caught Jeff’s eye an hour later, drawing him into the woods with the promise of a warm campfire. Hours passed before he realized his footprints had vanished. Tired, numb, scared, and ready to give up, Jeff stopped. Instantly, a blinding white light surrounded him. Warmth permeated his body.

    “It’s about time you got here,” said a woman. “I’ve been waiting all night.”

    Jeff only stared, too stunned to think.

    “You’ve had everything thing you wanted, Jeff, now it’s time to have what you need, a purpose. It’s time to give back some of the luck you’ve enjoyed all these years. I’m here to teach you to be a Dream Guardian.”

    ***

    Sunlight flickered across Jeff’s eyes and he jumped up, blinking at the brightness. Nearly a foot of snow surrounded the ten foot patch of clear dry grass where he had slept. Had it all been a dream? The gold band with the small emerald on his finger seemed to disprove that. He fingered the ring, remembering the woman’s words from last night.

    “The ring cannot be sold or traded,” she had said. “It’s ethereal. Only another adept can see it.”

    That was one way to keep him from blowing it again. But could he really be a Dream Guardian. Jeff still didn’t understand what that meant, or how he wasn’t frozen solid. The air certainly felt frigid enough. In the distance he heard the roaring of an engine and took off at a run. He was still lost in the wilderness.

    Or so he thought. Only a couple dozen yards away he stumbled into a road. For the second time in less than a day Jeff was too stunned to speak. Not just at the nearness of the road, but at the woman behind the wheel of the SUV sitting on the shoulder.

    “Want some coffee and a ride, or are you going to keep me waiting again?”

  • Feeding Frenzy

    Kara forced herself to remain still, waiting for just the right moment. The seagulls squawked and fought over the diminishing scraps of bread. More of the feathered scavengers circled above, waiting for a chance to dive into the fray. They were pests, brazen creatures who snatched food right out of people’s hands. Kara’s hand to be exact and it had been only inches away from her mouth. She had been too stunned to react then. Well, not today. Today she was ready for the greedy creatures.

    Stealing food in the dead of winter is never good, especially from someone like Kara. Kara was human, but her heart was wolf, part of the pack that had sheltered her after the collapse. The only human she trusted was her mate, Ethan, who crouched on the far side of the snow pile. The two of them lived somewhere between the wilds and the occasional human village. Kara’s nose flared in distaste. The villagers were too wasteful; their refuse drew vermin for miles.

    Nearly twenty birds now fought over the last few crumbs. Signaling Ethan, Kara sprung from her hiding place, moving with the silent precision of a hunter. By the time the gulls noticed the soft hum of the nets it was too late. Ethan and Kara pounced on the birds with small clubs until all was still. Meat to eat, bones for soup, feathers for fletching and pillows, and nineteen thieves who would never steal again. It was a good hunt.

  • Playhouse Poltergeist

    Katie tugged at the top of her corset nervously as she waited for the curtain to go up. She told the costumer it didn’t fit ages ago but nothing was done to fix it. The costume wasn’t the only thing putting Katie on edge. There had been several questionable incidents at this theatre and people had gone missing. Then there were the rumors of a mystery man hidden in the sealed box off stage right. The whole situation felt like a sick version of Phantom of the Opera. Katie took a deep breath trying not to wonder whether he was here tonight and if that would doom the show to failure or make it the greatest hit. This was the break she had dreamed of since she was little and nothing would keep her from going on stage.

    As the curtain parted and Katie danced on stage belting out the opening number, Donavan smiled. He had transported directly into his box as always. No one would know he was there unless he desired it. Katie’s voice echoed around him and her image danced across the screen in front of him. Micro cameras hidden throughout the theatre delivered an array of angles. With a flick of his hand, Donavan zoomed in on Katie. Young, enthusiastic, beautiful, talented, exactly what the Intergalactic Thespian Society was looking for. When the curtain closed he transported a single rose onto Katie’s dressing table. Soon he would make himself known. Until then…he’d remain a phantom.

  • Last Meal

    Regrets? Of course Danny had regrets, most of them about that hamburger he never got to eat. He could still picture it when he closed his eyes. Hot, glistening juices soaked into the sesame topped bun. Perfectly seared meat, elegantly adored with a slice of cheddar and two crisp bacon strips. The scent filled Danny’s nostrils, making his mouth water. Sweet greasy onion rings piled generously on the plate completed the image. It was art, pure and simple. Something Danny didn’t expect to find in a small roadside diner, especially one named ‘Sanitary’. It sounded more like a hospital than a food establishment.

    It had been a long time since that exquisite burger. Before Danny could take his first bite that idiot kid in the next booth had thrown his milkshake across the room. Half frozen chocolate glop contaminated his perfect hamburger. The kid deserved to have his neck broke. So did the parents that were supposed to be watching him. The rest of the patrons and the pretty waitress with the pink stripe in her hair, well… they laughed. The only one I let live was the artist who created that burger.

    Twelve years and multiple trials and appeals later, Danny still longed for that flawless burger. If only they could have found that cook for his last meal. Saliva ran down his throat as they strapped him down and jabbed a needle into his arm. Only the memory remained. Food… perfection… and then, nothing.

  • Death March

    Three planes had left the war torn airport yesterday with high hopes of a new life in a new land. At least one had been shot down. Jim wasn’t sure about the other. He had veered off course to keep from taking fire. The maneuver had worked, but the ancient engine seized up only an hour into the flight. He wasn’t sure if landing the plane safely was a miracle or a curse. No one knew where they were and they were miles away from even the smallest town. All they had now were sand and burning sun.

    Jim looked back at the line of survivors. Even the animals were struggling. It was unlikely any of them would survive long enough to reach the hazy line of mountains on the horizon that had been taunting them for the past nine hours. They couldn’t go back and the future was dim, but no one complained anymore. They were too tired, too exhausted. The next person to fall would be left behind.

    Just as Jim resumed shuffling across the sandy ground, one of the dogs cried out and sank to its knees. It lay on the hot sand, eyes closed, tongue hanging limp and dry. Everyone stopped and stared at its labored breathing. Twenty survivors, no food, no water. One dog on death’s door. Jim glanced at the other survivors. No one spoke as he pulled out his utility knife. At least now they had some food.

  • Sea Dog

    Salty flicked her ears as the humans went ashore, eager to instigate her escape plan. It was all she could do to keep from yipping in joy. The lazy mutineers gave themselves shore leave again for the last time. That crew took a nap every hour and didn’t know how to scrub down the deck properly. She pried the door of the brig open and looked around to be sure no one was watching, then jumped to the dock and pulled the mooring lines free. It took only seconds to start the small prop engine on the sailing vessel with the push button start. The humans were none the wiser as Capt’n Salty took the helm and steered the boat away from the dock and out to sea.

    The rise and fall of the waves made Salty’s heart soar. Those scurvy humans could enjoy their shore leave for as long as they liked. There was no way Salty would be sent to the brig on her own ship again. She checked the charts as the isle of St. Lucia disappeared from view, smelling the salty air as it blew by. The larder was well stocked. The ocean breeze was brisk, and the sky a clear crisp blue. All Salty had to do was keep her course. Martinique was only twenty-five nautical miles away. She’d make port there and take on a new crew. Humans were easy. All a dog need do was wag her tail and look cute.

  • Location is Everything

    My parents warned me to talk to the neighbors before buying a house. I didn’t listen. The house was beautiful and the schools were excellent. Who cared what the neighbors did for a living? I should have asked. Having genetic scientists next door isn’t all bad. They’re nice and the saber-tooth cat does keep the rodents away. It’s the triceratops’ that drive me crazy. I had to move my garden to the far side of the house so they wouldn’t eat my plants. And don’t get me started about mating season. We plan our vacations to avoid the ruckus.

    Now Katie says she loves their son Kyle. He’s a nice young man, polite, and smart too. But really, would you want a son in law with wings? Can you imagine what their kids would look like? I just don’t know what to do! They are both going to the same university next fall. (To study genetics of course.) Last night Kyle came over with a dozen roses for Katie. (Normal ones, not the carnivorous flowers that ate the chihuahua down the street.) Then he politely asked if he could marry our daughter. What were we going to say, no? He may look unusual, but at least he has manners.

    Somehow I get the feeling our grandkids are going to be fluttering around the house instead of crawling. Who knows, maybe they can find a way to make kids hibernate until after puberty. Less teenage drama would be nice.

  • Goodbye Wave

    Patricia knelt on the beach numb and trembling, a single black rose grasped in her hand, heedless of the sharp thorns. Blood mixed with the salty water dripping down her arm. An icy vise crushed her heart. The rose had washed ashore only moments before Chris’s broken board, just like in her dreams. Did she make this happen? Was it her fault? No amount of pleading could stop Chris from surfing today. Now he was gone, torn from her by the crashing riptide.

    Jackie saw the Black Rose slash the surfer’s board and yanked him under the massive wave. Hate shrouded the assassin like a cloak, masking all but the signature black rose. As Chris was dragged farther into the ocean Jackie’s skin prickled. A dream projection couldn’t drown, but the instinctive fear still made her hesitate. Chris was almost out of sight before Jackie forced her spirit into the churning waters. It took all her concentration to reach him and strike the Black Rose. The assassin screamed in anger as Jackie attacked. Icy hands lashed at Jackie’s neck and she felt her spirit weakening from the onslaught. Desperately, she kicked at the shrouded figure, invoking the strength of the Dream Guardians. A bright light flashed and the Black Rose hissed, then vanished.

    Nearly drained, Jackie dragged Chris’s limp body to the shore and forced air into his lungs. Chris would live, but Jackie’s job was far from over. It was time Patricia learned her dreams were premonitions, not assaults.