The Place Between Part 9

This is a very interesting week for me; I was able to enjoy a beautiful Easter Sunday with my family, hanging out with my little niece (just over a month old!). But I also received the mournful news that one of the teachers from my old high school passed away last week. It's not news you ever expect to hear and when it hits, it hurts. 

The short story you've been reading over the past few weeks has been based largely on my experiences in high school (I will attest that I was never taken to a magical place and/or interacted with wizards and rooties). There were quite a few downsides to my high school experience, but the good memories, those are the ones that shine bright. Memories of the teacher that passed away are most certainly among the bright. 

My grandma passed away while I was a student in his class; I had been very close with my grandma, I still wear her ring every single day and I know that she will forever be in my heart, but these are the things you think of/ do after time has passed. Shock was what set in first. It didn't seem real. The strongest person that I knew and loved was gone. 

I was back in class the next day after my grandma passed. There are only three memories that I have from that Friday - and one of them involved this teacher, Dan. We had been given an assignment, I have no idea what, but he pulled me aside, gave me a hug and said, "Whatever you need, you know we're all here for you." That was a big deal; yes, the other two memories are of two other teachers doing the same for me; my first teacher that day (We had seven periods in a day), I was the second kid in the class and he beeliined for me to do the exact same thing for me. Only a few of my peers really knew what happened - it's not exactly an easy subject to breech. I imagine that my mom probably callled ahead to let the teachers know that I was likely to be a bit off in class. Having those teachers, strong, great mentors and role models really helped me thruogh those very difficult times. 

I am so grateful that I was able to be a student of Dan's - not only was he a good man, he was a great teacher. As you may gather from my postings, my academics in high school weren't particularly focused. I did have some AMAZING teachers in high school, but quite a few were not. Dan was an excellent teacher. He taught us about the world and he made us all feel important, smart, like we mattered. And for teens, that's a pretty powerful message that sticks.

Thank you, Dan, for all you did for me and for all that you did for all of the students who attended that high school on the hill. You will be missed, but heaven has gained a great new member. May the surf be great where you are, Dan, and may the wind be ever at your back. 

~*~*~

And now, on to part 9 of The Place Between

The experience of sitting through the rest of the speech from Eddie and Angela was comparable to torture for Cassie. She tried to reassure herself that these people really were just jerks from the district with out an independent thought rattling around their empty heads, but she knew she would feel a lot better getting this information down to the Place Between as soon as possible. Trouble was, she still had a full day of school to sit through. She couldn't imagine how much more torture she could endure.

"I can't believe they took our fricken notebooks!" Mike cursed as they left biology. Needless to say Mike and Chelsea were fuming with frustration. 

"We gotta go find Mr Pryer," Chelsea insisted. "He'll get our notebooks back by beating the  living crap out of those idiots!" 

Cassie truly sympathized with her friends, but her mind was racing. She was trying to remember the earlier part in the fall when they did a small segment on chemestry, but her notes from that part of class were back at home and chemestry was not her shining subject by any means. "WAIT!" Cassie shouted out, startling quite a few students around her as they passed through the halls to their next classes. "No, none of you, go on with your normal lives," Cassie dismissed the other students then cut off Mike. Looking him dead in the eyes, she asked, "Didn't you do a project on that biologist earlier this year?"

Mike starred and processed the request of his friend a minute before answering meekly, "Rachel Carson?" 

"Yeah! That one," Cassie pointed excitedly at Mike. Both Chelsea and Mike stared at their friend like she had lost a screw. "Did you do any research on pesticides with that?"

"Yeah, a ton," Mike said with a shrug. He was internally very excited that Cass even remembered this presentation he did several months ago, but he didn't want to look too excited. "Why?"

Thinking on that reason herself, Cassie came up with, "Once I get my thoughts together, I'll let you know. Can you hang out after school?" 

"Cassie, what's this about?" Chelsea asked, hoping to not be late to their next class. 

"Those people were more than just your standard creeps," Cassie said to her two best friends. "They're up to something that could be really bad. I don''t know what yet, and I know this sounds nuts, but I'm going to need your guys' help to prove it." 

The bell rang, alerting the students that there was but one bell remaining before their next class. Mike and Chelsea began to hasten away toward their classes on the opposite side from the hall. The concern that they held for Cassie's strange twist in behavior was unsettling, yet in their casual way, the two teens decided that whatever crusade Cassie would pursue would likely be worth while. 

"Yeah, alright. See you at lunch, Cass," Mike said, heading off with Chelsea to Calculous, leaving Cassie on her own before her art class. 

Chelsea ran off towards the opposite side of campus where her classroom was located. As her boots pounded  the ground, she tried with all of her might to think on ways that she could be wrong. The last thing that Cassandra wanted to do was to set offf any panic alarms where there need not be any, but if there was a betrayer in the midst, she wanted them exposed. "But who could it be?" Cassie thought as she ran through the door of her art class. Her art teacher was one of those teachers who was quirky and easily distracted, so it was most common for students to get away with things in class that other teachers would ping instantly - being late was one of the top five missed offenses. "Does this have to do with those kids and that ouija board they left? Are they investigating because the camera caught those stupid teens smoking in the barn? There's no way those two morons were higher ups or legit spies - they were far too dumb and obvious." Gooing to her locker to remove her art supplies for lab, Cassie tried to devise a plot where she could bring Chelsea and Mike into her ring of knowledge without breaking any rules for not telling any body. She knew she needed help and most importantly, she knew that the space between would soon also be in desperate need.

~*~*~

The endless circles that Cassie mechanically drew in her concept notebook were little towards assuaging her mind from worry. When finally lunch did come around, Cassie was in no mood to stand in lines waiting for food. 

"Cassie, is everything alright?" Chelsea asked her long time friend, worried by the scattered looking expression on her face. 

"Yeah," Cassie answered, though neither of her friends were convinced. "I just really need your help, guys, to figure out what those two are really up to." Mike and Chelsea were not about to say no to their friend, especially after the way those creeps treated them.

The three of them went to their favorite corner of the lunch court behind the lunch cart with the impossibly long line behind it. Mike pulled out his laptop, a thin tablet like device that booted up quickly, and listened to Cassie explain:

"Those two were far beyond your average types of creeps; the sodium based pesticide that they are using, or planning to use, whatever, that's what we need to try to figure out." Cassie spoke in a whisper to her friends so that the lunch cart ladies standing closest to them would not overhear. "Mike, I know you probably put the most work in to that science project, so by chance, do you have a list or something of all pesticides and their, I don't know, ingredients?" Cassie really wasn't sure what she was looking for, but if she remembered anything from Mike's project, it was that there were some seriously nasty chemicals used in the past that harmed both animals and people. 

"All?" Mike asked, the idea was quite intimidating as the list was never ending.

 

"At least those that were used in the last one-hundred years or so?" Cassie tried to make it sound as if she knew or had any idea about what she was talking about, but she was truly in the dark. 

"Alright," I 'll see what I have. 

 While Mike looked up the files on his computer, Chelsea quietly asked Cass, "Do you think they're like, going to use something bad or try to mess up that creepy place somehow?"

Shrugging, Cassie thought hard a moment before the answer came suddenly to her without drawing too much attention to the things about that old ranch she knew. "Look, no one has ever known anything about that place - not even our parents. Why would it now be considered a 'historical landmark'?" She looked hard into CChelsea's eyes, hoping to press upon her how serious she was. "My dad is obsessed with local history, you know that. Even he doesn't know anything about that place. Who the hell are these people now from the 'district' to tell us otherwise. And, a moth? Do you honestly think that if there was a super bad moth flying around that we wouldnt have heard it from the local apple orchards? Kelly MPhinn talks about ever effing detail of her life and her folks have run one of the best orchards here in the mountains forever! Don't you think she would have told everyone if moths were posing a risk to her family's trees?" 

The last point in particular ran exceptionally true. It was nearly impossible to get Kelly to shut up. 

No matter what theory Cassie had within her, there was a point to connecting the dots with a girl who had no shame for sharing every secret imaginable. 

"Alright, Cass," Chelsea said with a nod. "Let's get these guys."

Mike snapped to tell Cass and Chelsea that he hasd something. "OK, I've got my page on the list of banned pesticides in the U.S. Anything specific you want me to look for?"

With a deep breath and a sound feeling that her two best friends had her back, Cassie strongly said, "Sodium. Find me the top ffiive pesticides that had sodium as one of their main components." 

With a nod of his long banged head, Mike was on the search.

~*~*~

Wha, oh, what devilish, dangerous plot stands against the Place Between???? Find out next week!

Your humble author,

S. Faxon  

 

"The Red Queen"

I'm at an adorable coffee shop in Temeula called Ryan Bros. I'm enjoying their Earl Grey while writing this week's edition of z blog. I am so sorry for the delay, but I've been preparing a good one. Without further adieu, on to the dark tale of the Red queen...

The Red Queen

The queen stood stalwart, gazing out a window. The attendant that joined her in the otherwise empty dining hall watched her with fear and respect.

"Madam," his shaky, but diligent voice called, "they are here."

The queen barely tilted her head to her knowledge that she was listening. Her eyes never left the window. She inhaled deeply. Everything has been arranged. There was nothing now to be done then to see her last attempt through. "Let them come," her firm, quiet voice commanded.

The attendant that had served the middle aged queen for many years drew his back straight. The last act was bold, terribly so, but there was nothing left to do. Glancing at the table, he verified yet again that all of the nicestest dinnerware had been set. It looked as if the queen was expecting to entertain loved dignitaries, and not despised enemies. "Very well, your Majesty," the attendent bowed and left the queen alone in the hall. 

When the doors on the other side of the hall opened with the unmistakable sound of armored men entering, she remained still as a stone at the window.

"Ah, your worship," a cruel voice that the queen had long dread hearing called to her. "What would your people think to see this lavish spread when most of the men in their families are dead?"

The spread on the table was highly decorated. The queen requested the best be set up for these expected, but unwanted guest. The queen turned to face the war stained men that entered, turning away from the view of her city that lay partially in ruin. "I should think you to be glad to see the set, Lord Lastric,"using his title taste wretched on her tongue. "It is, after all, for you."

The intimidating figure complete with a sword dangling from his belt, strut slowly toward the head of the table opposite from where the queen stood. "Is this your last grab at civility? Now that your short reign is at an end, this certainly can't be a celebtration."

The queen inhaled deeply. She was careful not to greatly insult this poor excuse for a man. "Come, if civility will not appease you and your men, won't you at least allow your men to enjoy a meal?"

The men looked to their leader. The bellies were rumbling. With no rest, they had been leading the seige against this woman and her well-trained army for over a week. Obtaing this city had proven to be much more of a nightmare than planned. Sitting down and eating even if it was with their sworn enemy, was certainly tempting.

Lord Lastric was not immune to human desires, but he was hyper sensitive to human mischievousness. "This may be of no surprise to you, but being that our two sides have been at war for two years, you will understand if I do not trust you."

The queen scoffed. "Do you think I'm going to poison you?" She made a motion to one of the servants that had entered to bring in the food. Shaking her head the Queen leaned on the back of her chair. Looking straight into the eyes of her enemy she said, "Pour whatever is served into my glass. Serve whatever food you wish to me, so that I may prove that this is a meal of goodwill. A formal acknowledgment of my defeat."

The servers immediately entered bringing in and laying out numerous platters of steaming food. The men uneasily made their way around the table by the orders of their crawling bellies. Their leader was quiet. He knew his men were starved, but he knew the queen was cunning. "Very well," he said, unable to deny his men this comfort after the sacrifices they made for him. "But," he reached across the table to a teacup from the setting where one of his men was to sit. "You will drink from this, so in the event this proves to be lined with more than gold we will all be in the know." He walked the cup to the queen and exchanged it with her own. "Enjoy this, my lady," he growled. He stared at her neck as she calmly took her seat. He imagined running his blade across her pretty thin throat. It would be so easy. Too easy. He chuckled then began to return to where he would sit. "This truly will be your last look at your life as queen."

The queen poured herself a cup of tea as she would on any other day, but she decided not to add sugar or milk as was her country's customary way for taking their teas. It would be a strange break from tradition, but extraordinarily necessary. Clearing her throat, the queen said, "I'm sure your men are capable of serving themselves, so please, gentlmen, eat." Her tone was motherly, which was unexpected. It was as if she was talking to her sons, not her enemies.

The men eagerly reached for the serving utensils, but again their leader stopped them.  "Do not forget your manners, gentlemen. We are in the presence of a lady. She deserves first bite."

The queen smiled. She more than understood this hesitation; she anticipated it. The queen quietly served herself, then took a bite of the flank steak and the mashed potatoes. "So, Lord Lastric, what plans have you for me?" 

Lord Lastric watched her for a moment and after ensuring that she was tasting and swallowing all of the food, he answered, "No more than you would have done to me were our places in history switched."

The queen finished chewing her bite and whille holding her knife and fork in her hands, she mused, "I see, so you will have me destroyed so to make a final mark on your rampage. To show that this crusade you invented has only begun?"

The leader gave his men the long awaited signal to at last endulge in their much needed desire. The men attacked the food like wolves a fresh carcass. The queen watched the men eat without directly looking at them. Instead, she kept her eyes on Lord Lastric who had yet to take a sip or a bite. The queen pulled her tea cup to her lips and sipped as he said, "Here is my plan. Once the bellies of my men are full, they will escort you to the coldest, dampest cell in your prison and hurl you into its keep. We will spread word to your resistence and make them come to the event that we will have tomorrow." As he spoke, he stirred the milk and sugar into his tea. The scene seemed so eerily peaceful. The man's actions were unnervingly unfitting to his words and reputation as a violent, ruthless soldier. Lord Lastric raised his tea cup to the queen. With a smile as cruel as Satan, he said, "And once we present to them your head upon a pike, then they will have a real reason to call you the Red Queen." The leader drew the tea to his mouth and what started as a sip became several mouth fulls. He had not realized the extent of his thirst. As the warm tea, sugar and milk hit his empty belly, he deemed it safe to eat, afterall, the queen was still eating. 

The queen nursed a small bite of potatoes in her mouth as she waited for the right length of time to pass. The men had already cleared their plates and were diving in for seconds, thirds. 

The queen cleared her throat, her stomach was already burning. "Well, you've taken everything else from me, my husband, my sons, my kingdom, why not my life?" 

Lord Lastric ripped into a chicken leg, seasoned so well that his men doubted if they weren't eating plates in heaven. "Maybe I shouldn't have you killed." Lord Lastric said with a mouth full of tea and chicken. He was eating so much and so fast, he was not surprised by the slight burning in his stomach. "I imagine it'd be terribly difficult to live with those demons, knowing, as you do, that this all could have been avoided if only you and your husband had abdicated when I asked."

The queen continued to slowly eat her mashed potatoes as she listened to the increasing amount of throat clearing sounds coming from the men. "I assure you, Lord Lastric, that neither of those options are what I would do to you."

The men continued to eat regardless the growing swelling and burning in their stomachs. They all assumed the same as their leader, that their long empty bellies were angered by the sudden presence of rich, highly seasoned food. 

They could not have been more wrong.

One of the men who sat at the right of the queen began to cough violently, as if he was choking. 

A few of the men slowed their eating to see if their comrade was alright. The queen placed a motherly hand on his shoulder and said, "Drink some tea to clear your throat, lad."

The man did as told and took down as much tea as he could, though nothing was stuck in his throat. He was having a difficult time swallowing and it felt as if his esophagus and stomach were being lit on fire.

A few of the men resumed their eating as their comrade appeared to be recovering, but it wasn't a minute more before another and another man began the same coughing spell. 

Lord Lastric stopped eating. His own esophagus was begining to burn wretchedly. "What's going on here?"

No sooner had he said it, the entire table of his men were either coughing or clutching on to their stomachs. For some it felt as if their intestines and stomachs were being violently stabbed from the inside out, for others it felt as if they had swallowed red-hot coals. 

 

One man stood and vomited right on the table, spilling sick everywhere. 

The men were consumed with their sudden onsets of cramping. Two fell out of their chairs in convulsions.

Lord Lastric stood, dumbstruck by what he was witnessing and feeling. His own stomach was cramping so horribly that he was forced to bend forward and lean heavily on the table. His men were falling out of their chairs one by one, crippled and convulsing from the same gruesome pains. Everyone was clearly affected, except the queen. 

She sat stoic, though she was not completely immune. The trace amounts of aresenic that she had consumed were enough to make her stomach hurt and to leave a metallic taste in her mouth, but not nearly enough to render her doomed.

"What have you done?" Lord Lastric growled to her as he fought every urge to vomit.

The queen stood and answered calmly, "I lined every cup of tea with arsen, as well as the meat, essentially everything, sir, that is on the table, except the tea. But none so much as the sugar and milk."

The general's knees crumpled and he fell hard to the floor. Most of his men were barely moving, having consumed enough poison to ensure their deaths in minutes. 

Though she knew that hardly any were listening, the queen walked around the table so that she could see her old foe. "You see, I knew that my chances of surving this afternoon were slim to none, so if I was to die, I would have preferred to go out with dignity and in the style of my choosing. But then I realized, why stop with myself, when I could take down the whole theatre?" She stood directly beside Lord Lastric who could no longer speak from the pains consuming his body. His expression said enough; he could not believe how quickly the tables had turned against him. Grabbing the lord's unfinished cup of tea, the queen looked straight down at this demon of a man. "And that, sir, that is why they call me the red queen." From her towering position, she poured the entirety of the cup onto his face.

And then there was silence. The movement around her had ceased. 

Sighing, the queen used a cloth napkin to wipe her hands and then she returned to her original position by the window, to look out once at her sick kingdom.

Hearing the silence, the kichen staff entered the room. They were surprised at the gruesome scene upon which they entered, but not by the death of the men. The kitchen staff was, afterall, those who were most loyal to the queen desguised for the afternoon to wait however lightly on their enemies. They would do anything for this woman who was willing to die to perserve the sanctity of her people and the kingdom that she loved.

With her eyes still locked on the horizon, the queen said to her loyal group, "It looks dark now, but the seed has been saved." Turning to face her circle, she smiled and concluded, "We may hope again."

~End~

Well folks, I hope you enjoyed the dark story of the Red Queen!

I'm enjoying my day in Temecula and hope that whatever you all are up to, that you're enjoying yourselves too!

Your humble author,

S. Faxon

My view from my favorite winery in Temecula, Miramonte.