The Place Between Part 8

Money, an example: 

(Photo curtesy of Wikipedia)

If everyone who's ever been to my blog invested $5 into my paypal account, I would have absolutely no chance of affording the yacht above. (Yes, that's exactly how I meant to phrase that.) 

In case you're wondering, that is the Mirabella V, the Tallest Single Masted sailing vessel in the world and she's presently moored in San Diego. I get to ooh and ahh at her regularly, though I've never quite seen her sail. I've seen her from my boat, which may pail in comparison, but, the boat I play on is cooler...So what if the boat I'm on doesn't have six suites, span 242 feet, cost 55 million dollars to build, or stretch 290 feet straight up into the heavens????? 

This is the photo I caught of the Mirabella: 

But I don't need a climbing harness to touch top of the boat I play on...so there.

Alright, enough of my my sharing random facts - on to the show! Op, there I go again, story! If you're new to the Weekly Read, WELCOME! You may want to back up a few posts to start at the begining. Click on The Place Between on February 25th, 2015 to see the start of this Tteen edition of the Weekly Read!

For the regulars, here we go!

The Place Between: Part 8

A silver six foot pole dropped to the floor, slamming upon the cold concrete ground with a harsh, resounding crack. The ringing of the pole's reverberating snap vibrated throughout the classroom where the students now clutched to their ears.

"There now," the silver haired biology and shop teacher said to his pupils. "That got ya to shut your yaps."

Cassie and her friends had foreseen the dropping of the pole a mere second before the fateful sound. This was their teacher's least preferred method for silencing the chatterbox students of his classroom, but after eighteen years of teaching, there was just no other way. Cassie and her bunch did not mind - it got the popular kids to shut up, after all. 

"Now, while your ears readjust to the beautimous ringing of the world around you," the teacher started with a satisfied smile on his face. Most of the students were grimacing still. "Let's get our stuff together here. Now, we were going to go over the test that most of you did abysmally rotten on, but the principal has seen fit to let  people from the district take over my class today."

"Why?" one of the front row people asked. The front row people really wanted to be in this advanced biology class, the second row people (where Cassie, Chelsea and Mike) sat, was the average students and the third row, that was reserved for the kids who believed they were above it all. Life would teach them differently soon enough, but for now, they were on top of the four year mountain.

Mr. Pryer shook his heads above his hands, his nine and a half fingers demonstrating his frustration. "I don't know, I guess they got a grant to restore an older part of town, so they're hoping to use your young minds to do their dirty work, something like that." Mr. Pryer was gruff, and he rarely washed his hair, but he told it straight and that was something his students always appreciated. (Even when he dropped metal pipes onto the ground.) "Hopefully these guys'll show and you all will get to leaarn about pesticides, rather than us review mitochondria."

Leaning to Chelsea and Cassie, Mike whispered, "Isn't that pretty much ninety-nine precent of most of our lives anyway?" 

Chelsea scoffed, but she was barely paying any attention. She was watching Cassie who was not paying attention at all. She had her box of pastel pencils out and was doodling away in her smaller sketch book. Sketching was how Cassie drew herself away from any stress that bothered her. The tip that she had received from the librarian and the books given to her were on the farthest back burners of Cassie's mind.

She had seen them. On her Sunday night visit to the Place Between, she had finally seen the long eyed creatures that had been watching her from the beginning. They were not scary or the least bit intimidating. They were odd, there was no doubt about that, but they were alright. Edgar told her that they were known as "Rooties" because they ate the roots of weeds. They looked a bit like potatoes to Cassie, but she would never share that with the creatures that at last welcomed her by extending to her gifts of cleaned roots. Cassie had yet to eat those, but they looked lovely in the San Diego Zoo cup she erected them within. They added a nice, earthy touch to her room.

"What are those, Cass?" Chelsea asked, pointing to the unusual image that her best friend was working on. 

Cassie leaned back and tried to think of a way to make up a story about the scene of the rootie at the entrance of the tunnel that lead into the heart of the secret place.

Leaning in his head awkwardly, Mike considered the sketching for a moment then said, "It looks like a walking, radioactive piece of sh-"

"Alright, guys," Mr. Pryer chimed in. The door in the back of class had opened. The people from the district were entering the room. Mr. Pryer walked to the two people that had entered to get to know their names, hoping to preserve at least some rights and control within his classroom. 

Some of the teens turned to look at the incoming visitors, most pretended not to care. The subject these people were bringing in was not going to be on any of their upcoming tests, so there was no point to paying attention. 

Cassie and her friends were among the latter portion of those teens. They giggled and laughed among themselves as Cass explained that the brown creature in her drawing as something she had seen in a dream. 

The conversation at the back of class left Mr. Pryer huffed. He did not care for these people who were pushing their way into his classroom and taking over his lesson. 

"Alright, alright, kiddies," Mr. Pryer slapped his hands together and walked to the front of the class with the two district people. "This is Eddie and Angela, they going to tell you folks all about this district project. Give 'em your respect, and don't make me look bad. I'm going to go find coffee and sanity in the break room and be back in a few." Mr. Pryor's bluntness never failed to impress his students, even the ones who could care less. 

The district people were not impressed, but their ear to ear smiles that instantly creeped out the class hid the distaste for their host. 

"Hi guys!" Angela started brightly. Already the majority of the class was waning in enthusiasm for skipping out on mitochondria. The tall, thin blond before them clearly was overcompensating her own lack of enthusiasm with an over abundance of cheer. "Eddie and I are here to tell you all about an epic opportunity that awaits you!"

The curly haired Eddie's feigned enthusiasm was even less appealing than Angela's. "Alright guys, now  show us with a raise of hands how many of you have ever been on a farm before?"

The class of students stared blankly at their teachers for the day.

"You've got to be kidding, right?" one of the more popular boys in the class asked. His question was not to bring attention to himself, but to shed light to the fact that everyone in this room had without fail more than meagre experience on farms. 

"Of course not!" Angela dismissed the qualm with a wave of her hand. Looking around the room, she asked, "Anybody?"

No one moved and certainly none raised their hands.

"Okay, then," Eddie moved awkwardly on to the next question. He was clearly disapointed in the lack of enthusiasm and engagement from the teens. "Tell us then, how many of you are planning to go to college to make sure that your farm or ranch becomes the best darn one this golden state has seen?"

Silence and stillness once more met the pair.

After the longest, heaviest minute in the classroom passed, a student in the first row raised her hand, but mostly becuase she pitied the pair in front of them. 

The two began to ramble off a few questions to this poor fool who raised her hand. 

Mike slid his notebook to Cassie and Chelsea so that they could see the note his pencil scratched in its messy pages for them:

The girls chuckled as discretely as they could. Chelsea wrote a note at the top of her neat page and shoving it over Mike's note, wrote in black ink:

All three teens chuckled, but their moment of laughter was abruptly interrupted.

"Do you think this is funny?" Eddie who plainly did not have a sense of humor stopped everything to point out the three teens.

Mike, Chelsea and Cassie sunk a little in their seats even though indeed they did think this was laughable. 

"Huh?" Eddie walked around the front row to stand beside the table where the three sat. "Silence is not an answer." He snatched awaay the notebooks of Mike and Chelsea.

"Hey, man!" Mike shouted. 

"Those are our class notes!" Chelsea argued, pointing to the batch of pages in this weird guy's hands that she had worked so hard to keep neat and organized.

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you disrespected us," Eddie said. He scanned every inch of the pages in front of him. All the students found this a bit more than unnecessary. Even though his eyes clearly saw the two sentences that made the teens giggle, his eyes kept scanning. "We'll just have to take these with us to inspect to make sure you're not causing any more troubles than necessary,  

"Hey!" Cassie started up, her friends were beside themselves with anger to say anything yet. "We're students here - we kinda need our notes."

"Would you like to turn yours in too?" Angela sharply asked of Chelsea. The bright smiles and fake facades were gone. 

Everyone in class doubted the sanity of their district to send in creeps like these. 

The popular boy in the back of class snorted then said, "You guys wanna like, tell us why you're here? Or you just going to harass us?"

"That's it!" Angela yelled, "You, young man, can go to the principle!" She pointed her hand at him like a deity would when disgracing an angel. 

Standing up and collecting his things, the popular boy, "That's fine with me - beats the hell out of the hell in here." 

Clapping his hands together, Eddie tried to redirect the class. He looked slightly manic when he did so. "For the rest of you, students, we are going to tell you about this opportunity: in a few days, we will be embarking upon a paid internship opportunity." All of the students wondered at what cost those precious dollars could come from working with these two. "We are a part of a historical restoration project here in town for a little area that has long been neglected. It was supposed to be a local and tourist destination, but a nasty little moth took over the area, stopping progress of restoration dead. It's taken years and years, but we finally got approval from the big guys to clear out the area of the moths using a harmless sodium product. Now, we're going to need your help!" Eddie made it sound as if they were recruiting for a fun outdoor adventure and not the genocide against a bug. Cassie wondered how many of the students in class were considering helping this creep.

"How are we supposed to help you kill the bugs?" a guy in the second row asked. 

"No, no," Angela and Eddie answered as if disgusted by the thought. Angela explained, "The sodium mixture is kind of like a really strong smelling cologne, so it just chases them off, but we need help. It is a really big area and we need about ten of you to help us. But there are some requirements. Ed?"

Nodding enthusiastically once more, Eddie continued, "That's right; we're going to need signed consent forms from you, along with verification that you are over 18."

"Why?" a boy in the front row asked. 

"Because," Angela's answer made every other soul in the room appear to be far beneath them. "We'll be working with chemicals, so we need to make sure that you are fully aware of the hazards, but you will be wearing complete protective gear and the chemicals that we will be using are completely harmless anyway. It's just a general precaution as we'll be doing some real, hands on science that will prepare you for life after high school! Now, how cool does that sound?" 

No one in the room looked a lick excited about playing with chemicals, not even the odd kid in the front row who had a recurring habbit of burning whatever items were available whenever the bunson burners were lit. 

Cassie and her friends were still fairly upset for the scene that Eddie and Angela caused for them. The trio were too busy hatching plans for getting those notes back when one of the front row kids asked, "What area of town will y'all be spraying down or whatever, anyway?"

With a great big smile on his face, Eddie shared, "Oh, you guys have probably driven by it a million times! Some of you have probably even been there!" He sent a leary eye at Chelsea and Mike - the trouble makers. The glare creeped out all that saw it.

Missing the look completely, Angela finished, "It's the old cattle ranch down the road, the one that's been abandoned for years!"

Without hesitation, Cassie immediately thought, "Oh no. Are these the people Martin and President Andrea warned me about?"

Sweeping his creeping eyes across the room, analyzing every single expression, Eddie said, "As soon as we have enough qualified volunteers, our insecticide project will begin."

Every part of Cassie sunk. She knew that there was far more to this Eddie and Angela than met the eye. The odds of them acctually being from the district seemed impossibly thin. 

~*~*~ 

Uh-oh? What's going to happen next??? Who were those creepers? What is this sodium mix they're going to use? And will Chelsea or Mike get their notes back? You know how to find out!

See you next week!

Your humble author,

S. Faxon 

The Place Between Part 7

A long time friend and I had the wonderful opportunity to attend dinner at a lovely young family's home this week. Now that may sound awesome enough of itself, but the dinner was multi-cultural: our lady hosts that we met for the first time, was Russian and her husband was Turkish. (I know that sentence was off gramatically, but bear with me, the caffeine in my coffee has not yet kicked in.) Their little one is a Turkish/Russian American who will likely grow to be trilingual at least. It was a WONDERFUL dinner and we met another couple who were from Tajikistan (I think I could be wrong on that and if so, let me know and I will correct that!). We laughed, had great conversations and an enormous meal. Of course, no one can leave a Turkish household without drinking coffee or tea and we had the marvelous luck to get both. It was great sipping vishna (Turkish word for cherry juice) and eating Russian salad. I feel very blessed to have access to so many different cultures and flavors of life. You, no matter where you are reading this, whether you are on the train tracks in NYC waiting for the Q train to show up, or if you are in El Cajon trying to beat the heat of today, you have access to the global communities that surround you. You just have to find them and make friends. Trust me, it's not hard to have a global experience, or to share your experiences over a cup of tea.

Sipping my own cup of coffee now and ready to present to you this week's edition of The Place Between. If you are new to the Weekly Read and would like to catch up with this story, click here and the begining awaits you:  http://thereadingescape.blogspot.com/2015/02/the-place-between.html

For the rest of you, on with the show! Oh, oops, I mean, story...

The Place Between Part 7

"I no longer believe the coyote is the worst of our problems," with a slow point of his long, bent finger, Edgar pointed out the door through which they came. 

Martin glanced at the camera in the corner of the barn, checking to ensure that the recorder had not yet come to life. Figuring that it was safe enough, Martin made a daring move and walked to where Edgar stood so to see the target of his pointing. It took but a second for Martin to see the imposing threat: four humans striding confidently emerged from the darkness as shadows, heading directly toward the barn.

"Quickly!" Martin did not waste a breath. He grabbed Cassie and together with Edgar they bolted from the barn. The trail down which they had earlier walked was the trail they swiftly took. Their movements were keenly planned, but in their haste, they could not prevent the sounds they made cutting through the tall grass.

"What was that?!" One of the shadows asked, startled by the noise. The four shadows stood still. 

Cassie glanced back, terrified to think that these strangers might start shooting in their direction. A thousand scenes of civillians being shot accidently in zombie shows raced through her mind.

Like common cat burglars on the brink of being caught, Cassie and Martin dropped to the ground. They hid behind a rusted grain thrasher that left much to be wanted as a protective bulwark. 

The shadows that approached stopped abruptly. They too seemed startled by the unnexpected potential others.

Martin whispered something to Cassie, but she was far too occupied by the distraction of fear to have completely comprehended his message.

The people of shadows were speaking to one another. Between the remnants of the rusted muffler and tire, Cassie peered at them. Heart racing, out of breath, shaking from terror and cold, Cassie came to realize that she was lost and alone.

Were these the people determined to undo the enchanted ones? Why was it really such a heinous crime in these days and times to have powers? Would their cause become the next human rights campaign? Would they even be given that chance or had Cassie in the week of her knowing this great and extraordinary of secrets have already blown everything?

"Look!"one of the shadows whispered loudly. His extended arm pointed toward the plain where the small pack of coyotes were running off, startled themselves by the foibles of the two legged ones. 

The shadows regained their stances of confidence and proceeded into the barn where they disappeared. Cassie thought on the cameras. 'Are they on now? Have those guys triggered it? Oh where is Martin and Edgar?' 

No sooner had she said it, a hand slapped over her mouth, nearly stopping her heart.

Edgar quietly shushed the startled teen, assuring her with a soft smile. He pointed over the top of the thrasher. Extending her legs, Cassie half kneeled, half leaned on the thrasher to see over the top. At first she had no idea what she was looking for until she saw Martin and a handful of the sentinels, running carefully toward the barn. "What are they doing?" She mouthed to Edgar. 

Leaning close to her ear, Edgar softly answered, "Checking who is in the barn. If it is the fiends sent to smite us, our people will signal the retreat. If it is someone else...we will find a way to scoot them along."

Cassie locked her eyes on to the barn and within a few seconds a large puff of smoke billowed out. Cassie felt all of her hope for humanity die a little.

"Are they smoking them out?" Edgar asked rhetorically, losing faith in his own people for half a second.

"No," Cassie answered lethargically, "They're just a bunch of potheads."

The unmistakable skunky scent floated over to Cassie and Edgar. Edgar made a face. "Ewe," his droning voice sounded. "Are they imbibing that awful stench?"

Cassie thought Edgar's disgusted ignorance to be endearing. "Kinda," she answered. She really wasn't sure if her first cultural lesson to a citizen of the Place Between should be about the dumb ways youth wasted their money to hide from reality. 

She was not given the chance. 

"Let's go," Martin demanded, sweeping in behind Cassie and Edgar. Clutching onto Cassie's shoulder, Martin tore the girl away on to their hidden trail, ripping off a small piece of her jeans as a victim of the rusted thrasher.

The three of them raced back to the mourning tree's side. Maintaining his grip on Cassie, Martin again raised his wand and the whirling winds began to suck them up. Just before the images of the world surrounding her were blended together in a spinning mass, Cassie saw the group of stoners go running out from the barn, leaving a trail of thick smoke and dust behind. 

Arriving back in the safe keep of the sentinels, Cassie gave her head one minute to recover before shouting out, "What just happened?!"

Martin was already busy giving orders and demands to the sentinels, ranging from retrieving the above ground team as quickly as possible to briefing the president on what just occurred.

"There will be no need for that," the stone voice of the president firmly sounded, bringing the entire room full of working bees to immobile a statues. "I am already fairly aware of the situation."

"Madame President," Martin rushed to the regal woman's side. "There were a group of teens that came by to use the barn for 'recreational' activities."

Not wanting to raise any sort of panic, the president kept her questions to herself for the time being. She looked around the room, she could clearly see that many of her sentinels were missing. She knew that they were up top, clearing any more of the mess that may have been left behind.

"Martin, Edgar, Cassandra," the President's cool in such a strained situation threw chills throughout Cassandra's spine. She was impressed and intimidated all the same. Meeting a president was an enormous situation for a small town, mountain kid. "It seems appropriate that we review the events of tonight that have come to pass. Come with me, please."

~*~*~

Cassandra's eyes had never been wider. The tunnels glowing with a soft blue light opened into a grand and open underground pavilion. There was no way of knowing from sight the extent of the city between earth and damnation, but there was one thing that was for sure: it was beautiful. A true, real city, right here beneath her feet for all of her life. The purple mountain clearly had more to it than anyone could ever believe.

As the team of three followed President Andrea, the awe that filled Cassie about the place around her flowed occasionally to the president herself. Cassie wondered if she would be geeking out less if she were meeting the President of the United States. 'Are you their Minister for Magic?' Cassie wondered, comparing her limited familiarity of witchcraft once more with Harry Potter.  

The president led the men and young lady to her office for a close door meeting.

As soon as the door shut, President Andrea sat at her desk and said, "Martin, this is far worse than what we feared or anticipated."

Martin was taken aback by the president's grim frankness. "I don't understand, "Martin started. "They were just a couple of kids. They were scared white by the start we gave them. We didn't harm them - we just made it look like a pack of coyotes were coming in after them. They are not likely to return."

The president sat motionless a long while. Her lack of action only increased the uncomfortable feeling in the room. Eventually, the president shifted then said, "At first glance that may have been true, but," she waved her hand and drew up a smoke screen with the image of what the teens left behind. 

"A ouija board?" Cassie stared at the wall of smoke that she assumed to have some sort of projector generating the source of the image. It did not dawn on her that the image was produced by magic. The image of the game did not seem like a big deal at all, but Cassie decided that now was not the best time to ask short questions. 

"It's just a child's game," Martin tried to assuage the fears of the president, but he knew as well as her the risks. "Surely it is no longer believed to be a tool of dark sorcery."

All three adults looked to Cassie. This was why she was here. These critical insights into the world beyond  their own.

Cassie had seen enough paranormal shows to know that ouija boards could open doors into dangerous voids. A memory from last semester at school came to mind. Her and her friends in band were messing around with a ouija board in the backroom of band class where the larger instruments were kept. Using their cell phones for light, it was very dark within the long closet. The giggles that always started with such a game and the accusations of "stop moving it" were running rampant, but they began to wind down once the planchette started to move on its own. It had almost finished spelling "vigilence" when from above them a scurrying noise rang out. All of them went bolting out from the room screaming, and laughing, merrily interrupting guitar class. But that was it, the "door" had been left open and nothing bad had happened to them. The scurrying in the attic was nothing more than a mouse. It really was just a game. Cassie's first instinct was to shrug off the paranoia, to give a simple answer, but Cassie knew that a quick easy response was not the correct answer. "For kids it is a game. Even I've messed around with them, but I do know that people do still use ouija to try to talk or communicate with ghosts, spirits. I'm sure that there are a lot of people out there that see ouija boards as something to fear." 

Contemplating the answer for a moment, at long while the president nodded and said, "What started as a harmless game for spiritualists has now become a threat to us. Many of our kind and yours have been condemned throughout the ages for trying to communicate between worlds. Our people have avoided those boards for a century. No light may be drawn from those ghastly letters for us." The president waved her hand, dismissing the smoke screen.

For Cassie, she watched the smoke dissipate with but one word on her mind: "vigilance."

Edgar took a step forward and asked the president, "Is it too late for us to remove the board?"

The president answered, "The eyes awoke the moment those young fools stepped on to the land above our heads. Their activities, the laying out of the board, and the abandonment of the board are all being reviewed right now by the authorities. I think it's safe to say for us to believe that the authorities will assume the board was left for us." Though the sentinels had responded diligently to dismissing the young intruders, had they merely let the teens be, the game would have been played, it would have been taken back and not abandoned in a fit of fear. "We will see what comes," the president warned. "And they will come. Their paranoia rivals ours, which is why your role here is so important, Cassandra." 

Cassie was caught entirely off guard by this statement, mostly that a president would know her name. "Me? Why?"

Standing from her desk the president walked over to Cassie, placed her hands motherly on the teen's shoulders and said, "because you can help keep us from becoming them."

~*~*~

Will Cassie be vigilant and help prevent a possible genocide? Will the people of the Place Between be discovered? Find out next week on The Weekly Read!

Your humble author,

S. Faxon

The Place Between Part 6

Traveling has always been a delightful time for me to write. My current trip to Texas had proven just that. So, from Transmountain, here comes this edition of The Weekly Read!

But first, a look at the mountain.

The Place Between Part 6
he quiet of the ranch was unlike any silence Cassie had ever known. It was crushing and yet it pressed her forward. As excited as she had been for this evening to start, she could no longer wait to be tucked back in the safety of her bed. 

The tall grass that they slowly crept through hissed as cool, winter breezes passed through the mountain's grasp. The idea that anything could have been prosperous here made Cassie doubt anything that she had ever negatively judged before. They stayed together tightly, but neither men explained to Cassie exactly how they knew the trail on which they walked from any other bit of dirt they walked upon. The place was so overgrown, there appeared to be no obvious indication of a path marked. Yet somehow the men knew. They led Cassie to the tall standing remnants of the barn where the cows were once brought to be milked. 

"Here is where we shall begin," Edgar looked around his surroundings and deemed this the safest place possible. There was no standing wall within the stannding legs supporting the rusted tin roof. Standing within such a rickety looking structure was the least comforting aspect of the entire trip thus far. "Their eyes cannot see us here." Edgar pointed to a round faced, shiny object that Cassie did her best to discern in such dim light. A close, analytical gaze brought Cassie to be quite startled. She had assumed it to be a remaining tool from the cattle ranching days, but it was a camera. 

"What do you mean they won't see us? Why are they watching us? This barn?" Cassie asked. "Is that the government?" 

Martin held up his hands to get her to calm down. "They won't see us because the president's guard has more concealing spells on us now than we possibly ever had while this was our home. Their camera will not catch us. They are watching us because they do not want us to reoccupy this place. They know that we are still near by, but they have no idea of where we are living, so they posted cameras throughout this place. We believe they are motion activated, but so long as we stay within the concealing walls of our fellows below, they will not detect our movements. They are here - 1, to keep you kids out of here, and 2, to be ready for us if ever we dared to return. And no, it is not your government...exactly. We are not sure who they are precisely, but they do not answer directly to your president."

"It may be better, Cassandra," Edgar began, thinking that this was information overload without the background's completion, "If you sit. Please sit, please." 

Cassandra looked around. The only option was on the weeds and the dirt around her, which was just fine. Crossing her ankles Cassie dropped her rump to the ground and prepared for anything that was to come. 

Edgar too dropped to the floor and tucked his legs beneath him. Cassie was delightfully surprised by this odd sensei. She noticed that Martin did not sit. He was nervous, ever watching for something to go awry.

Without any need for a signal to start, Edgar began, "Hundreds of years ago, the perspective towards people like us, witches and wizards, was terrible. Burning, burning, burning. There were so many fires, but most of the poor souls that went up in flame were not enchanted. They were regular people without an ounce of magic to their hearts. Our people started to wonder, to hope if the world that we knew to be much larger than it seemed, would provide for us a safe haven. We put all of our hopes and dreams on the great and glorious west! 

"It was one of ours who planted the seed of exploration in the hearts of men like Magellan, Balboa, Cabrillo, Vizcaino, and quite a few of ours went with them. It was on the same missions that carried a small padre through these mountains that our people found this valley. Of course, the valley was not void of souls. The natives, the Kumeyaays occupied this place and they were leary of Europeans. A fear for which they had every right. It took many, many sleepless nights for our ancestors to establish trust with the mountain tribes, but it came like the sun rising after a long, starless night. We were all outcasts, we all had a similar enemy and a similar desire."

"What was that?" Cassie asked, captivated by the story being told. 

Martin smiled and in a whisper said, "To live."

Nodding, Edgar continued, "And live we did. It was not easy at first, new climate, new people, new home, but we were able to adapt and to build a great, strong, and secret friendship with the tribe in our mountain. It was beautiful."

Realizing that the shadows of the story were coming, Cassie could not keep her questions back, "How did they find out about you? Was it so weird to have multiple families working a ranch? That sounds totally normal." 

Hanging down his head, Edgar replied, "A spy. A man. One of ours thought he'd prefer a life away from this purple mountain's side. We knew, we all knew about the madness infecting the world against communism. Someone would have had to have been deaf, blind and dumb to not notice the world going to hell, but somehow still, we thought ourselvess immune." 

"We were betrayed," Martin sharply continued. The pains of the betrayal rang clearly. "He told the government of our abilities. Our greatest strengths suddenly once more became our greatest weakness."

Shaking her head, Cassie asked, "Hold on. Didn't the government people think it was crazy? That a whole community of witches and wizards were chilling in the mountains?"

"Yes," Edgar answered. "But he must have proved it to them through demonstration of his own powers."

While this made sense, Cassie had more questions. "With all of your powers, couldn't you guys have defended yourselves?"

The question did appear to have a simple enough answer, but centuries of a balancing act were not saved by whirlwinds of action. "Yes, we could have," Martin explained. "But war with mortals was not a venture in which we are willing to partake. Our numbers were small as they are today. It has been difficult to maintain our numbers being so remote, but we manage. Anyway, the people came slowly, trying to infiltrate us, to get out any information that they could, but fortunately, our people were immediately aware that something was odd. While fighting may be our last resort, defense is our speciality. We knew quite easily that these people were not enchanted like us, so we did not trust them. But one day, they grew frustrated and came with guns and police vans to haul us away for being 'communists'."

"What happened? Was there a battle after all?" Cassie anxiously asked.

Matin motioned to Edgar to explain. "Our friends the natives of the mountain saw the police coming, so they ran ahead and warned us."

An unsettling noise abruptly disrupted the conversation. 

"What was that?!" Cassie quickly asked, popping up from the ground. 

"Stay exactly where you are," Martin demanded. 

Edgar too stood. All were on high alert, listening intently for any more signs of movements. 

Again, the sound repeated. Something was making its way through the shrubs and tall grass. 

"Might be a coyote," Edgar said to Martin. "Or a raccoon."

'Or a dumb pack of high schoolers,' Cassie thought. 

"Either way," Martin spoke so quietly that the sounda of the distant crickets nearly drowned him out. "Do not make a move. We are only clear on this side of the barn."

"If it's human," Cassie whispered, "Will they see us?"

Edgar and Martin looked to each other.

In his horror movie narrator voice, Edgar answered, "That depends on who they are."

~*~*~

Wha-oh! Who or what's a coming???

Tune in next week! 

Your humble author,

S. Faxon

The Place Between Part 4

Bella Tuna Todd helped me to edit this segment. She sat on my lap watching the digits write out on my iPad, purring the entire time. I guess she likes what I write. Hopefully, your interest in my blog delves a bit deeper than Bella's. For any new readers, to learn who Bella Tuna is, scroll to my very first month of blogging to see her tale. If you're old pros, on to the story!

The Place Between Part 4

Edgar was the most unimposing human being that Cassie had ever seen. His enormous eyes peered out to her with curiosity and interest. The way his long neck stuck out from his brown tweed sweater made Cassie think of a turtle that had stepped out of a classic Disney movie. Even his slow, paced speech patterns brought her to think: Turtle, but not in a cruel way. She was intrigued by this man and delighted that he was to be her tutor and guide in this strange world. She could not wait for her lessons to officially begin.

"Now Cassie," Martin's tone was warning - Cass long realized that she was in a bit of hot water for coming in so early. "It is imperative that you come back tonight after your parents have gone to sleep, so that we may begin your instructions. I know it'll be late, but tonight will not be terribly long." Martin sighed and said to him self, 'God willing.' 

Nodding and clutching his hands together over his chest, Edgar affirmed with his slow, articulate, low tone voice, "Yes, yes. It will not be long. It will be the most substantive lesson though." 

"Should I bring a notebook, a pen...or something?" Cassie asked, really not knowing what to prepare for - as far as she knew, this could turn out to be anything from catching frogs to a collegiate prep class. 

"No," Martin firmly negated. "Just dress warm. Don't have your cellular telephone on you or any sort of electronic device."

Cassie pondered how he referred to her cell. "Does anyone say that anymore?" It never crossed her mind that the people in the Place Between had no need for cell phones or that the presence of any beyond this room could spell out their doom.

"Dress warm," Edgar advised. Cassie was beginning to think Edgar did voice overs for haunted houses or spooky television show marathons on Halloween. There was nothing spooky or intimidating about him, it was just the way he sounded. "I suspect it will be cold."

Looking to Martin for any sort of explanation, but all she got was an encouraging smile that was less than assuring. 

~*~*~ 

The school day dragged on. Cassie stared at the large, white faced clocks in all of her classes. She knew that she should pay attention in class, but how could she? The excitement that filled her was incomparable to anything she had known before. The anticipation was only relieved (even if only slightly) after school when she was able to jam out to the tunes on her iPod as she helped Marlie to stack books. 

"You're sure in a better mood than earlier," Marlie observed of the young teen. "Did you figure a way to express your inner whirlwinds? I have those books for you, by the way. There're in the table back there." Marlie motioned to the little break room for the library staff (which used to be substantially bigger, but had been pruned down to include just her - the sharp knife that made district budget cuts spared almost no branches.)  

Playing with the pink earbud that was dangling out from her hoodie, Cassie said, "Thanks, Marlie. No, I haven't figured out what to paint yet, but I'm just, I don't know." She devised a quick thing to say, "I got a good nap in during advisory, so I'm feeling a lot better."

Marlie didn't entirely buy it, but she knew better than to press teens. If they wanted to confide in someone, they would confide in her at the time of their choosing. "Alright, well, if you would rather catch another snooze before the late bus comes, this work will be here for you tomorrow."

Cassie was so grateful to have Marlie. It was nice having an adult ally and friend in high school. She felt terrible for lying to her friend, but knew that for the sake of the mysterious place, this was the only way. "Thanks, Marlie. But I'll just sleep on the bus." 

The late bus would not come for another forty minutes, so Cassie decided to make the best of her time, jamming out to Maroon 5 and Phillip Phillips. 

The bus ride and her evening at home passed much in the same way. Though plenty exhausted she was not able to catch a wink of sleep. For the first time in her years of riding the bus, passing by the abandoned cattle ranch did not give her chills. It seemed to invigorate her. The hum-drum days of high school were gone. Cassie had the biggest, greatest, most awesome and incredible mystery awaiting her and she was going to find out its secrets TONIGHT. It couldn't get much better for a seventeen year old. 

"Jayden!" Cassie's little brother stole her slice of meat lover's right off her plastic plate and began to devour it, animal like. "Mom!"

"Jayden," In one word Cassie's mom quietly yet firmly made the point clear that what the twelve year old had done was unacceptable in their favorite pizzaria. It was the only quasi nice restaurant in town. All the other places specialized in pies and a-typical remote town food. Those places usually became overwhelmed with out of towners from approximately 5pm on every Friday until 6pm Sunday, when the city people would return from their "escapes" and venture back down the mountain. Eddie's Pizzariia was the only option for locals who wanted to eat out without leaving home and he made a killing. 

"To be fair, Cass," her dad started, "You weren't touching it. I was about to do the same." His bright smile instantly cleared up the momentary tension at their booth. That was one of the many great qualities of her dad. He could make anything good. Cassie's dad was the hardest working guy most people would ever meet. He was out of the house every day before the sun rose. His construction business was finally beginning to pick up after years of inactivity, coinciding of course with the recession. It was great to start to see him smile and joke around again. Cassie's dad was the king of puns and while their small family had heard every possible combination of any and every pun to ever be thought of, it was great to hear them again. It was an excellent sign that things were picking up again.

Jayden tore into the pizza, mimicking in his mind the zombies in the show that he and his buddies were watching without any of their parents knowing. It was fairly obvious to Cassie just the same. Cassie wanted to rat out her brother for pirating episodes of The Walking Dead, but she would save that treat for later. This wasn't that big a deal comparatively to what other eighth graders were doing these days. Reaching up to the elevated pizza on the table, Cassie grabbed another piece. She knew that eating was a good thing, but she was so excited, that she was not sure if she would be able to keep it down. "Guess I should grab some before this zombie-creeper eats it all," she sent a sharp look to Jayden who knew immediately to give Cassie her space, so that he could continue to watch his epic show. 

"On an undead note, anything new and exciting happen at school today guys?" their dad asked his kids. With the exception of the zombie spin, that was the same question the kids had heard every day of their life that they ever attended school. It became a bit annoying at times, particularly on bad days when things did happen, but eventually the brother and sister would come to appreciate how their dad was interested in the happenings of their life. 

"We had pizza bagels today at school," Jayden answered first. "It was cool." 

"Was that because of the fundraising?" Mrs. Jordon asked. She wasn't particularly thrilled that her son who had no interest in sports or P.E. - like every other kid - would be consuming pizza twice in one day. 

With a mouth full of pizza, Jayden mumbled an answer, "Yep. We reached our goal." 

"That's great," Mr. Jordon was super excited by this. It meant that he and his wife would only have to pay twenty percent of their son's eighth grade field trip to the east coast. They were still paying off Cassie's trip that they had to pay in full, but these were the experiences that he and his wife would bend over backwards to give their children.

"I'm so proud of you, Jayden," Mrs. Jordon said to her boy. "That was a lot of hard work." 

Cassie checked out of the conversation. The pizza that she was now scarfing down was great and she pretended to be focused on that. 'Note to self,' she briefly thought,' Congratulate Jay for his fundraising, 'cause that's freaken awesome.' Their parents really were not sure if they were going to be able to send their boy out without having to take out a third mortgage. This took a lot of pressure off the family. As she popped a pepperoni into her mouth, Cassie happily thought to herself, 'I can't believe how great things are becoming. Talk about a turn around. Thank you gods of 2015!'

Cassie of course would not have had any warning or indication as of yet, that the gods were granting her a calm before the storm. The clouds were building behind the purple mountain, but it would not be long before the crack of the thunder would ring throughout the place above and the Place Between. 

Whaaaaaat? Pizza, zombis, mysteries??? You'll just have to come back next week! Tell your friends about the eclectic tales told here at the Weekly Read.

Your humble author,

S. Faxon

The Place Between Part 3

Sorry about the momentary lapse in posting this blog - more details as to exactly why will follow, and it truly is exciting news!!!!

Lest I make you waait any more, here we go: 

The Place Between - Part 3

The whirlwind trip that Cassie endured ended abruptly. Though the experience was comparable to being sucked up in a tornado, Cassie was neither dizzy or harmed. She found her self once more in that odd interrogation room/kitchen.

"Whoa," was all she could say after the rush. "Did I just apparate?" The Harry Potter method of traveling to places was not exactly what Cassie had experienced and no splicing was ever likely to occur, but she had indeed been transported from the cool world above to the Place Between.

Realizing that the room had changed since her last visit, the feeling of a pit began to fill her stomach. There was no chair and no desk. The only light emanating in was from that hall that led to places unknown to Cassie. The feeling of being watched by a hundreds eyes remained, but it felt different somehow than before. Like she wasn't expected and had surprised the eyes. "Um...am I early?"

Indeed it was that no one had been expecting her for several hours. Cassie was unaware that she had unintentionally inspired a bit of chaos in the Place Between as people scrambled to prepare for the meeting that was not anticipated for several hours yet.

Cassie's original point of contact, Martin, was ripped from an entirely different meeting and was immediately escorted to the president's hall.

"This was not wholly unexpected," the president of the Place Between said coldly to Martin the second they were left alone in her dimly lit office. She stood with her proud back to him, facing the live picture of Cassie. President Andrea watched Cassie call "hello" awkwardly on the screen of fog that was comparable to a projection of a live security camera. "Telling a teen to come at the beginning of her school day may not have been the best of your decisions, Martin." She turned to face him. Her white hair and crisp, dark eyes made her a beautiful, but intimidating figure. 

Martin sighed. He indeed should have expected this to happen as indeed teens were the same everywhere. However, Martin was not the type that liked to be proven wrong so easily; he believed he could counter this unfortunate situation with a point of his own. "That is true, but with all due respect, Madam President, this only proves the importance of her meeting with Edgar. The rules of our world must be made clear to her as soon as possible...clearly."

The President was as sharp and prepared for any type of comeback, "Clearly an oversight on your part to have missed explaining the imperative nature of keeping out cozy neighborhood safe through her. If anyone at that school becomes in the least bit suspicious...it could spell out the end of us."

The president took a seat, never loosing her regal appearance or composure. She sighed, knowing that she should trust Martin's judgement, but the ever constant reminders of mistakes long past were enough to keep her ever vigilant. "Martin, I know I do not need to tell you these things,, but do not take anything for granted. This is a golden opportunity for our community, of that there is no doubt, but the potential pitfalls for us and her are likely far greater than any of us could imagine and far worse than anything we've seen before."

Martin nodded once. He needed no reminding, but he decided to make a drastic change in the original plans for introducing Cassie to be threats that abounded for them. "With your permission, Madame President, I would like to take Cassandra to ground zero tonight."

That was a grand proposition, but it did not come without risks. Considering briefly how to effectively and safely see this request through while simultaneously weighing any other option that came to mind, President Andrea decided that this really was the best way. With one slow nod, the president said, "Very well, but," she leaned forward upon her desk to stress, "Do not let her off the designated paths. Any wrong move and they will know we are here. And you know as well as I do that if they suspect so much as a whisper of ours has come to pass through those grounds they will come." A large ring on her middle right hand finger began to glow. Tapping it twice, across the face of the smooth black stone, she read the message, "Edgar Gude is ready to meet with the girl. Waiting for Martin."

"You had better go to Cassie," the president advised. "Mr. Gude  is ready and waiting."

"Very well," Martin said with a nod of his head. "I will check back in with you later, Madame President." He bowed his head respectfully and then moved toward the door.

"Let me know the minute before you leave and the moment that you return," Madame President demanded. "Focus on preparing Cassandra for tonight. I will personally take care of the security detail. Aside from protecting ourselves, we must do everything in our power to ensure that girll does not get hurt."

Stoutly nodding his head, Martin could not have agreed more.

~*~*~

Where will Cassie, Martin, and this Mr. Gude be going? Who do the people in the place between fear and why? 

Looks like you'll have to come back to find out for yourselves right here on The Weekly Read!

Your humble author,

S. Faxon