the impostor, part three

by nick nelson

part three of five

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to begin at the beginning, click here

my companions and I came to a large body of water. it stretched to the horizon, but looked very placid. “how are we to cross this?” i asked. “i do not know,” griselda replied. “i was expecting rivers, with ferrymen to carry us across them. but this looks like a great lake, or perhaps a sea. alas, perhaps we will never cross the great continent and make contact with dr eusebus. i had so set my heart on sitting at his feet and drinking in his wisdom.” “and there is not a breath of air on the sea.” dee pointed out. “even if we had a boat.” “i have a boat,” a voice behind us said. we turned around and beheld a skinny little fellow, clad only in a loincloth and a white turban, with what looked like a board under his arm. he had apparently been sleeping, or hiding, behind a rock we had passed on our approach to the water. “greetings,” the little fellow announced. “i am badboy the sailor, whose renown mayhave reached you, though that is so much applesauce. i overheard your conversation, and you are right, there is no wind to carry a boat, nor has there been for as long as i have been here, which is going on seven years.” “you said you had a boat?” dee asked him. “yes, i do.” he took the board from under his arm. it indeed had a little sail attached flatly to it , which could be raised to make a craft capable of carrying himself. “i thought you meant a boat which could carry al of us across,” dee sighed. “did i say that? but look here, i have another suggestion. just a suggestion, mind you.” “and what might that be?” griselda asked him. “that fellow there,” he pointed to me. “i perceive, with my razor sharp senses, honed by centuries of wandering the planet, that he has what appears to be some sort of living creature coiled in his basket. is it not so, my man?” “indeed it is,” i replied, not much caring for the tone of his voice. “it is a python, one under the spell of a powerful magician.” i did not add that i lived to break the spell and restore her to her true beautiful self. “excellent. such a creature might be useful in a method to get us all across the desert and into the great city.” “she was herself a sorceress of great beauty of power,” i heard myself say, although i had not wished to. the self-styled sailor smiled. “better and better. may i see her, please.” “yes, abad,” my companions all urged me. “let desdemona out, and let us all see what she can do.” at that moment a lone cloud passed over the sun, and i had a feeling of terrible foreboding. but what could i do? the hand of fate was upon me. i took the basket off my back and placed it in the ground. desdemoma slithered out, and without waiting for any instructions from the little sailor, approached the edge of the water… and in a single gulp, swallowed the whole of the lake, leaving a vast expanse of sand, interspersed by patches of marsh, and some terrible looking mossy trees… but this contributed only a liittle to the astonishment we felt, for desdemomna herself had been restored to herself - and was even more radiantly beautiful than anything i had imagined. i was too stunned to speak, but griselda simply turned to the sailor and said, “thank you, sir. we greatly appreciate your efforts on our behalf.” “it was nothing , madam,” he smiled. “ i was only the poor instrument, and spectator.” “oh, but we owe you everything!” desdemona exclaimed. “everything!” thus was my doom sealed. part four

the impostor, part two

by nick nelson

part two of five

to begin at the beginning, click here

i came to a crossroads. i saw a castle in the distance. an old peasant woman was passing by and i enquired of her as to whom the castle belonged to. “to count cagliostro, the snake-charmer.” she replied. “do you think i might find employment with the count?” “the local folk fear and shun hm, so he is always looking for help. a stout looking fellow such as yourself should would most likely be welcomed with open arms.” in due course i presented myself to the count. i found him to be a man of gravity and impeccable manners, though more than a bit aloof. “i could use a man to clean the snakes’ cages, and to clean the vipers’ pit, and to feed the python and clean her cage. do you think you can do that?” “i do.” “very well. but keep in mind, you are responsible for your own safety. if you become incapacitated for any' reason, you may find yourself being made use of by being fed to the python. is that agreeable to you?” i assured him that it was, and embarked on my new career. in making the acquaintance of the python, i discovered that she was a sorceress named desdemona who had been bewitched by her previous owner before being sold to the count. i commiserated with her, but not having any expertise in sorcery or even alchemy, there was nothing i could do for her. life in the castle was not so bad, although punctuated by occasional droughts and tornados, and despite the count’s being a stern taskmaster who demanded good service. in the cold evenings, with my day’s work done, i would often sit beside the fire in the kitchen. the fire was usually tended by a scullery maid named griselda who was a saint, and a man of all work named dee, who was a mystic and theologian. i learned a great deal from both of them during my years in the castle, but they were never able to enlighten me on the best way to remove the spell from poor desdemona, whom i had promised to assist and who remained trapped in the body of the python. one night the castle was rent with howls and shriekings far louder than those routinely visited on it by the forces of nature. a troop of demons, summoned how and by whom i never knew, had descended on it and carried away by the count, for what reasons - if any - i also never found out. the faithful old cook, thais, thus freed from the count’s influence, turned into a blue bird and flew away. i freed the snakes and some other creatures from the count’s menagerie - including a camel, a tiger, and two peacocks - and griselda, dee, and i packed such meager provisions as we could carry and set out from the now deserted castle. griselda and dee were determined to cross the rivers and mountains into the steppes of the center of the world, and reach the great city of go, where they hoped to find and meet the great mage dr eusebius. <> desdemona and i volunteered to accompany them, as did the camel, who had not fled with the other animals, and whose name was cora lee. so on a windy, drizzly morning we set out, with desdemona in a basket on my back, cora lee loaded with water bottles, dried figs, and other edibles, dee carrying his enormous leatherbound book of the prayers and spells of all nations, and griselda confidently leading the way. part three

the impostor, part one

by nick nelson

part one of five

I was born in the city of b—————, in the country of s——————. my parents were honest, hardworking people. they went to work every day and came home at night. when i questioned them about the nature of their jobs, because i was a moderately curious child, they were never able to give me what i regarded as satisfactory answers. when i was old enough i was sent to school. i did nor find schooling to be an interesting or edifying experience. as i can red and write, and have a functional, if rudimentary grasp of mathematics, i assume i learned these things in the school, but have no memory of actually doing so. i did not make friends with the other children. i was big and looked strong (but was not nearly as strong as i looked) and i was shunned but not tormented. the male students walked past me without seeming to notice me. the females often shrank back and rolled their eyes and shuddered. all through my youth i had one idea - to get away. i do not remember that i had any particular destination in mind - i just wanted to get away. at last the day came. i was no longer required by law to attend school. i was free. free to do what? and go where? one day when my father was out of the house - probably going down to the corner store to buy the newspaper - his one form of relaxation - i told my other i was leaving home and asked her if she would give me a small sum of money. to my bewilderment and embarrassment she began to cry . but she quickly dried her tears and gave me a small amount of money (i had secretly hoped for a larger one) and i was on my way. the sign in the storefront window said “soldiers of fortune - recruiting station”. i went inside. a little man behind a desk said, “so you want to be a soldier of fortune, eh?” “i just want a square meal,” i told him. “well, there is no reason you can’t have both,” he replied. i got my square meal and found myself on a ship bound for the continent of c————. the first thing i heard when i got on shore was a voice saying, “look at this fellow. he looks strong enough.” i was taken to a warehouse behind the wharf. i spent the next twenty years - or was it thirty? - lifting bales and other heavy objects. during this period i had a great deal of time to think about things, but did not make such great use of it as i might have. when my period of enlistment was over, i wandered back down to the docks. i decided to become a beggar. i prospered at this trade for a few years. one day a uniformed official informed me that the city had been ceded to another country or empire and that under their laws i could 'no longer simply beg on the streets, but that i might continue to solicit money as long as i was a “street performer”. i purchased a small bear and taught it to “dance”. while the bear danced i recited epic poems which i had composed in my head during the long years in the warehouse and sitting in the street with my paper cup. in this way i got along for another ten years or so. the bear, whom i had christened bismarck, never stopped growing and this proved a problem. eventually we could not make enough to feed both of us, so we parted ways. i decided to explore the interior of the continent of c————, on whose shore i had spent so many years. part two

my town

by horace p sternwall

back in my town people told it like it was. we did not mess around. people were what they were, and they were called what they were. if a guy had big feet he was called big foot jackson. if a guy spit on the sidewalk he was called sidewalk spitting jones. if a man was fat he was called fatso or five ton and if a woman was fat she was called butterball or two ton or wide load. if a man was thin he was stick or invisible man and if a woman was thin she was bony maroney. if you spent too much time at the barroom you were suck em down simmons. if you fell down drunk on the sidewalk one time you were old soak carter. if a woman had more than one boy friend - in her life - she was sleeparound sue. if a man did not have a job he was lazy smith or no account johnson or worthless williams. some of the names might be a little obscure to outsiders. like down dress dawkins, who was always looking down women’s dresses. others were more self explanatory. like bottom pinching barnes, or penny pinching polly parker. if you had a pet phrase or one that you used more than once or twice, you were that phrase forever. like who knows adams, or what do i know walker, or that’s life lewis. if you did one thing you did it forever. one woman dropped a bag of groceries when she was coming out of the general store and they spilled all over the sidewalk snd she was bag dropping betty baker. a fellow walked into a telephone pole once and he was telephone pole martin forever. children were not spared. many names were fixed on in childhood and it was easier to get elected president of the united states than to shake the name. the only way to lose the name was to move out of town. but if you ever came back to town, even for a visit, there was no statute of limitations. and once again you were big nose bob or itchy mcguire or misremembering smith or graveyard harris. you might say that people in my town were more honest than people in other, more polite parts. or you might say that they were just jackasses like the rest of the human race but in their own way. what do i know?

roller skate in the rain

by wiggy jones, "the little hippie boy"

i wish i was an arab tribesman or a bedouin at least or a cossack crossing the desert on a magnificent beast i wish i was a dervish whirling in the air i wish i was an elephant at the county fair i wish i was a fireman carrying a kitten down a ladder or a sad gorilla because nothing really madders or a happy horticulturist growing pretty flowers or an inspector general getting paid by the hour i wish i was a janissary with a flashing sword or a king with a million kingdoms so i would never be bored i wish i was a lion lazing in the son or the man of the hour friends with everyone i wish i was a nanny on my monthly day off or an obstreperous orangutan afraid of getting soft I wish I was a peanut growing on a vine or a grain of quicksand asking will you be mine? i wish i was a roller skate lost in the rain or a silly willy trying to explain i wish i was a top hat on a diplomat’s head i wish i understood one thing before i am dead i wish i was a vitamin on a bathroom shelf i wish i was a wombat and was true to myself i wish i could explain why i am not a hero and when the universe was young it did not add ip to zero i wish that i was all these things from sea to shining sea but when the clouds have rolled away i am only me

the comet

by horace p sternwall

the messenger arrived at dawn, with terrible news. the ajab immediately had the messenger hanged outside the city gates. the ajab decided not to tell the barfrave the news. he called for the champion and instructed him to have the janissaries in readiness to either flee the city or make one last effort to defend it. the ajab then hastened to his own chambers and secured all his pelmars in a small sack . his darbool, who had served him faithfully for sixty years, and knew many , though not all, of the ajab’s secrets, was asleep on the floor. the ajab strangled the darbool. when he reached the courtyard, the remaining janissaries had been drawn up in serried ranks. the ajab had made up his mind to flee. suddenly the barfrave appeared, looking very distraught. what is this, ajab? the barfrave cried. are ten thousand years of glory to vanish in a puff of smoke? of course not, your celestial majesty, the ajab replied. we shall fight to the death. or to victory! the barfrave shouted. of course, to victory, the ajab agreed. meanwhile the steeds of the assembled janissaries were growing restless. open the gates! cried the champion. at that moment the sky darkened, and a comet flashed across it. the gates were opened, and the janissaries rushed out of it and fled across the desert. the barfrave sat on the ground and wept. the ajab mounted a mule and rode out of the gate in a more deliberate fashion. his precious sack of pelmars was tied to the back of the mule. the ajab had gone less than a mile when the horizon was filled with a dark moving cloud, it was the army of the kamerati. thousands, tens of thousands strong. which quickly advanced across the desert and reduced the city to rubble and killed everything in it. a few of the jainssaries escaped with their lives, as the advancing army did not bother to pause to finish them off. the ajab was not so fortunate. a camp follower, a child of no more than ten years, recovered the ajab’s bag of pelmars, which he had spent half a century in accumulating. the comet disappeared from the sky.

poem

by anonymous

i read a book without a page I opened a door behind a stage a door to a room neither red nor blue or happy or sad or false or true the floor was white and the walls were too but the ceiling had an unearthly hue the room was empty except for a chair i wondered what it was doing there i waited to see if someone would appear but nobody did so i just stood there i am standing there still with nothing better to do that is my story what about you?