The War At Home

With all the fighting going on all over the rest of the world, it's easy to miss what's going on in our own back yards. But my eyes have been opened today, my friends, for I have seen what me very well be the catalyst for a burgeoning civil war. A war between two sides that may have had their differences from time to time, but generally have lived in harmony for generations. I'm speaking, of course, about robins and squirrels.

Hard to believe, I know. I'd always thought of them as kindred spirits; stalwart compainions of misunderstood cartoon princesses the world over. But today I saw something that shook that belief to it's core. The battleground was a tree along the walkway of Boston Common. Two robins were chirping wildly, pecking and dive-bombing a squirrel that raced from branch to branch, trying to avoid the swiping attacks of the enraged birds.

Hoping not to get caught in the crossfire, I didn't stick around to see the scuffle to it's conclusion. Assuming it has concluded. The squirrel may have very well ran off to round up his furry bretheren, which could spell bad news for the robins. Sure, they have the advantage in aerial combat, but squirrels far outnumber robins in Boston Common. If the robins hope to win this thing, they're going to need the help of the pigeons, which would eaily increase the size of their forces ten times over. Add ducks and geese from the nearby Public Garden into the mix, and we're looking at a squirrel "ethnic cleansing" and the hands...err...wings of the flying forces. Whether it spreads beyond the park remains to be seen, but things could get real ugly real fast.

I'm not going to pretend to know which party instigated the attack, as they were already locked in the throes of battle as I walked by. I do know that there was a nest on one of the branches, so it could be that the nobel robins were simply protecting their brood from the shifty squirrel. Who knows? Maybe they heard the legend of the notorious "bird-eating squirrel", but the idea of the squirrel going after the robins' young is unlikely at best.

Another possibility is the robins, in a cocky display of their superiority, decided to put the fear of God into the lowly, innocent squirrel, taunting him with their cries of, "Look at us! We're better than you because we can fly!" and scratching him with their tiny but sort-of painful talons.

There are literally dozens of theories forming in my head right now, as I try to make sense of the day's events. The squirrel could have lashed out at the tiny robins in a retaliation by proxy of the deaths of thousands of squirrels killed by larger birds of prey. Or it could be that this squirrel and the one I saw ungracefully fall out of a tree a few months ago are one in the same, making him possibly the World's Unluckiest Squirrel.

Realistically, I'm currently leaning more toward a battle to determine ownership of the tree. That seems to be the most logical answer, but I won't rule out religious differences.

Now this could just be an isolated incident. More of a neighborly dispute than the beginnings of a worldwide avian-rodent war. But the truth is we just don't know. All we can do is look to the trees, be vigilant, and pray that neither side successfully masters uranium enrichment.

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The Magician

Okay, here's my story for yesterday's post. Keep your stories coming! And by that I mean I only got three so far.

Grinning from ear to ear, the magician locked his chest and laid it in the back of his van. The show in Nebraska had brought in more money than he'd anticipated. His wife was already in the van, slipping out of her sequined assistant costume in favor of a more comfortable pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

"Well, how'd we do?" she asked when he got in.

"Good. Real good." He smiled. "Enough to get us the Stone Goblin."

"Not that again." She moaned. "You know that thing gives me the creeps."

The Stone Goblin was a curio he'd seen in an old magic shop nearly a year before. The shopkeeper said it once belonged to Al Kazhim, a popular vaudeville magician, who always closed his shows by "summoning the dark magic of the Stone Goblin" and filling the stage with black smoke. The shopkeeper couldn't trace it's origins beyond that, only that he knew it had been around long before Kazhim started using it in his act.

"Look, we put on a hell of a show tonight, but let's face it, we can't keep doing what we're doing. Our act is getting stale. You know it and I know it. We need something that's going to bring people in. I'm tired of doing birthday parties and office retreats. The Stone Goblin is going to put us on the map."

"On the map? Listen to you. And what's wrong with doing birthday parties? This was supposed to be a hobby, Larry. A part time gig while you finished law school. At least that's what you told me before we got married. How long have we been doing this now? Three years? You were never going to go back to school, were you? You tricked me. You tricked me and I fell for it. Your greatest trick of all, as far as I can tell."

"Don't say that, Vivian. You know that's not true. Sebastian the Disappearing Duck is my greatest trick. You know how hard it is to train a duck?"

After a particularly bitter arguement, they finally reached an agreement: Larry would buy the Stone Goblin, but if it did not bring in the numbers he predicted, he would walk away from magic and return to law school.

The next morning, Larry drove to the magic shop. He'd always enjoyed going there, if only to marvel at the various bobbles and whatsits lining the shelves. Trade secrets all, passed down from generation to generation. And then there's the building itself. The shop portion was quite modest, with a thick coat of dust covering nearly every surface. But the storefront was at the base of a large stone tower. Larry often wondered what was kept up there.

"He's been waiting for you." The shopkeeper said as Larry walked into the store.

"Who's been waiting for me?"

"The Stone Goblin."

Larry felt a chill run down his spine. "Eerie. How did you know that's what I came in here for?"

"You mean it actually worked? That thing's been sitting on the shelf for years. I'm tired of looking at it. So this morning I decided I'd say that to everyone that walks in here. But so far all that's done is scare people off. Until you came in, I was ready to throw the damned thing in the garbage."

"Really? When I was in here before it was so expensive. I was saving up to buy it. But if you're going to throw it out..."

"Well hold on now, sonny. What I meant to say was, I was about to lower the price, say ten percent?"

"You just told me you were going to throw it out."

"That was before. Now it's ten percent off. Do you want it or not?"

"This is insane! Just give the Goblin."

"No!"

"Fine. Throw it out. I'll just collect it from the curb."

"I've decided to hold on to it after all. It's got...sentimental value. I don't think I could dare part with it for less then...fifteen percent off."

"You're a loon, do you know that?"

"Look. You came in here expecting to pay full price for The Stone Goblin, a valuable and irreplaceable piece of history, only to discover that you can get it for less than you thought, thus putting more money in your pocket, and now you're upset because you can't get it for free? Now who's the loon?"

The shopkeeper, though clearly a loon, was right. Larry paid for the Goblin and went on his way. It was still a great deal. Sure, apart from it's rich history, the Stone Goblin didn't actually "do" anything. Unlike most of the items in his magic chest, it had no trap doors or mirrors. But it didn't need any of that stuff. It's all in the presentation. He put the Goblin in the passenger's seat and fastened the safety belt. "You're gonna make me a star, little guy."

When Larry got home, he picked up the Goblin and tucked it under his arm. He walked by the pond, where Sebastian was wading, as usual. He entered the house through the living room, where Vivian was reading the paper. He stood in front of her, eager to show off his newest toy.

"Honey?" He said.

"Yes?" She replied, looking up from the newspaper. "Gaaaahhhh! What is that thing doing in the house?!"

"Oh, he's not so bad. Sort of charming, really. You might as well get used to him. I'm working him into our next show."

"Fine. Fine. Just get it out of the house, okay? It's creeping me out."

"Sure. I'll go stick him in the trunk. Boo!"

He shook the Goblin in her face one last time before retreating to the garage, where he kept all of the materials for their routine. As he left, Vivian swore the Goblin looked up at her with it's piercing red eyes, but shrugged it off and went back to reading the paper.

The following night they had a performance scheduled at a community center. Larry had been working right up until the last minute to come up with some dialogue and back-story for the show's new centerpiece. When the curtain was drawn, he informed the audience that he had recently gone on a very dangerous expedition in Bangladesh, where he retrieved the ancient statue of Kapi Apadebata, God of Magic. The house lights went down and dry ice poured from the sides of the stage. A spotlight focused on center stage, where a platform rose from the mist to reveal the Stone Goblin.

"Behold!" Larry proclaimed. "Kapi Apadebata!"

The spectacle of it all filled the audience with awe and wonder. They were captivated by what was essentially little more than a lawn decoration, but the lights, the sounds, the story-- it all kept them enthralled. Larry saw this and he beamed with joy.

"And now, and now ladies and gentleman, we must appease Kapi Apadebata by offering him a sacrifice. A human sacrifice. And who better than my lovely wife and assistant Vivian? What do you say, Vi?"

Vivian walked out wearing a flowing red evening gown and matching shoes. She waved to the audience and climbed into the "Doom Box," an intimidating-looking contraption they'd used a million times before at a million other shows, only this time it was renamed "The Portal of Kapi Apadebata." She smiled and gave one last wave to the crowd, before Larry closed the lid, which was covered with spikes and blades. Just before the lid closed, Vivian once again thought she'd seen the red eyes of the Stone Goblin staring back at her.

Larry tossed a large sheet over the Portal of Kapi Apadebata, spun it around a few times, chanted some authentic-sounding gibberish and gestured toward the box. Then, with a climactic burst of smoke, Larry removed the sheet and opened the lid. Vivian was gone. The crowd cheered.

"You know what folks, I think old Kapi here is a nice enough guy, I bet if we all cheered really loud, I think he just might return Vivian to us. Can you guys cheer if you want to see Vivian come back? I'd be pretty lonely tonight otherwise."

The crowd laughed and began to cheer louder and louder as Larry claimed that he still couldn't hear them. When he got them worked up enough, he reopened the lid to reveal....

Nothing. Vivian was still gone.

"I...well that's new."

Some of the crowd continued to laugh, thinking it was part of the act, but the laughter died down as people noticed the genuine concern on Larry's face.

"She's supposed to, I mean, where'd she go? Vivian? Viv? Hello?"

Larry looked out towards the audience one last time and then walked off the stage. He went back to the van, thinking maybe she was having some fun with him. "I'll bet she's sitting in there laughing at me." He thought. But when he opened the door, she was nowhere to be found. Frantically, he started the car and drove down the street looking for her. But it was no use. She was gone.

Larry continued his search, and a week or so later, a police officer stood at his front door. The officer, in no uncertain terms, told Larry that the police would be viewing this as a homicide, and since he was the last one to see her alive, coupled with the very public argument the two got into a few days before she disappeared, Larry was the number one suspect.

Court fees drove him into bankruptcy. His lawyers suggested that he plead insanity, and things would go a lot easier for him if he told them where the body was. He balked at the insanity plea, claiming that the Stone Goblin was to blame. He just knew it. Of course, that made the lawyers push for insanity even harder. As the months went by, the media spectacle surrounding the Magician and his Missing Wife grew exponentially. Late night comics feasted on the "Goblin Defense." In the end, lack of evidence or a body was enough to clear Larry of all charges. But the whole town, the whole country, suspected that he'd killed his wife, and no one ever treated him the same way again.

Years went by. Larry couldn't get work. His status as a pariah kept him from holding a job or even talking to people. He found a tranquil, wooded area near the community center and built a home for himself made of sticks and bark. Everything he ever had was gone. His home, Vivian, Sebastian. All because of that damn statue. Why had he insisted on getting it? He had everything he ever wanted and lost it all to the Stone Goblin.

Then one day, the strangest thing happened. A storm had caused a portion of Larry's roof to break loose, and he went out to find some more wood to fix the leak. Not far from his hut, he stepped on something and nearly tripped. He bent over and brushed away the leaves to see what he'd stepped on. It was a red shoe. A few feet away he found the other. They were the same kind Vivian had on the night she disappeared. He dug around, looking for anything else, but that was all he found. Looking up, he saw a rainbow. He scooped up the shoes and brought them into the hut. They were all he had left.

What happened to Vivian Pane? If you or anyone you know has any information regarding the disappearance or current whereabouts of Vivian Pane, please contact the Unsolved Inquiries phone center at 1-800-555-NQRY.

When we return, a hotel that is haunted by the ghost of a robot.



UPDATE! Tarpon Springs, FL, A viewer recognized Vivian Pane as their neighbor, Jane Livian, and dialed our 800 number. When questioned, Jane admitted to being Vivian Pane.

"I don't know why I did it. I just got tired of it all. The magic. The shows. I guess that stupid creepy statue was the last straw. When I got in the 'Portal of Shim Sham' or whatever Larry was calling it, I decided I was done. So I slipped out the trap door and out through the back of the hall. Those strappy shoes were slowing me down, so I ditched them in the woods. I ran barefoot to the nearest bus stop and never looked back. I feel bad for Larry. It wasn't supposed to happen like this, him getting arrested and going to trial and all. Maybe we can work things out. I think I'll pay him a visit. Does he still have my shoes? I really liked those shoes."

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The Red Shoes Diary

At some point in his checkered past, hirsute cowpoke Lord Loser set out with his cousin, River Phoenix and Jerry O'Connell to find a dead body. It's a very interesting and sad tale, and if you haven't read it, I'd definitely recommend checking it out. You can read it here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.

In a way it reminded me of the red shoes my friends and I found near a mysterious hut made of sticks a few years ago. I've always wondered about the owner of those shoes, and how they came to lay there. But, perhaps even moreso, I've always wondered what would happen if I posted a series of random pictures I've taken and let you, the readers, come up with a story based on them. Hmm....

















Alright, now let's see some stories! They can be funny, serious, long or short, as long as each picture is represented at some point over the course of the story. And to prove I'm not just doing this to get out of writing something this week, I'll write one, too. Probably. When you guys are done.

EDIT: Here's mine.

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