The Sequel to The Children of Zol

Courteous Reader. This is a story about a man and a cast of strange characters who find themselves caught in an adventure mystery.

For reference, the hero of the story is the alleged author of The Children of Zol which is a Novella about a culture of people who have become addicted to their electronic devices. The Children of Zol can be accessed by following the link on the right or by clicking here.

Many thanks for reading!



Friday 31 December 2010

Chapter Twenty Six. It's Complicated




It's Complicated

"Why is it complicated? It is a simple question," said Derby to a thoughtful Umpa. "Where is Jeninqua?," he asked again. "You told her to feed the dragon. She sacrificed herself to the big red lizard who swallowed her whole. My dragon Richard then huffed and puffed and blew out the black marble."

Derby's excitement level was elevating as he seemed a little hot under the collar. He continued. "I've been drugged, tricked, beat up, held as a prisoner in a dungeon, seduced, disfigured, been reduced to stubbed tail of a powerful dragon. Please, just give me a simple answer."

"If you want such a simple answer, then why do you write such a complicated story?," asked Umpa.

"I'm not writing anything," Derby assured the fat man. "There's already too much for people to read. Besides that, people don't really read anymore. They want to watch videos. They want distractions so they don't have to admit their addictions. And their distractions have become another addiction! So please don't insinuate that this adventure is one of my making!," blurted a frustrated Derby.

"And what about Zol?," prompted Umpa. "Was Zol an adventure of your making?"

"Zol was a story about a culture of people who had become addicted to their electronic devices!," answered Derby.

"Exactly!," replied Umpa. "And who was the hero?"

"Derby," affirmed the author.

"And who is Derby?," peppered the smiling Buddha.

At this Derby cooled off. He knew he was no match for his new teacher. Besides, he came to learn, not to argue.

"And the marbles?," asked Derby. "The black and white. They seem to change. One moment Jeninqua is a white marble but then she's a white mouse which had swallowed a black marble. And the energy of them in my hands," he continued to probe. "At one moment when I rub them together they generate heat which I wasn't able to tolerate. Then another time they were cool and made my hands feel as if they were submerged in a spring of fresh running water."

"Shall we take this one step at a time dear boy?," asked Umpa lovingly.

"Yes," agreed Derby. "What happened to Jeninqua?"

"She and you are still in the white marble with Scontandia and Jade," said Umpa simply.

"Then why do I seem to be here, in your delightful forest sanctuary?," asked Derby.

"You are not confined to your body my boy. Did you think you were your body?," taught Umpa. "I assure you that you are not a body of flesh and blood, but that you sometimes occupy that beautiful body. You chose your body. You've manifested your body. Your body is you. But you are not your body."

"I am not contained between my hat and boots!," quoted Derby from Whitman.

"Exactly!," confirmed Umpa. The robust teacher continued. "Now Jeninqua. She's different. But we need to go slowly into this part of the story. This is where things get complicated. But let me tell you this. It is not improper for you to love her. You deal with too much guilt about that my boy."

"How do you mean that Umpa?," asked Derby.

"What?," started Umpa. "You don't admit feeling guilty about your desires for Jeninqua? As a married man. As a family man. You scooping her up with your erect firm dragon so that she and you were one entwined soul, with her breath on your cheek and her legs around you? This doesn't make you feel guilty?"

"Now who is making me feel guilty?," asked Derby excitedly. "Who is painting a picture of lust and deception?"

"You were driving that dragon my boy," said Umpa.

"Then why do you tell me that I shouldn't feel guilty?," asked Derby.

"Thank you," said Umpa. "We're making progress. Because she's not what you think. And that red dragon was more than just your sex wand. Follow me back to the house. I have something to show you.

Thursday 30 December 2010

Chapter Twenty Seven. Lifting of the Veil



Lifting of the Veil

Back in the Scontandia headquarters the Jade fighters were bungling with the white marble. The Scontandia chief had oozed back onto the walls with the other dripping sickness but was observing the Jade females who were frustrated by the invincibility of the little ball.

"Smash it again!," yelled the Jade leader to the one with the large hammer, who had been pounding on the marble to no avail.

"It is impervious to our violence," assured the hammer swinging fighter. This time she had "Dixie," one of the other fighters, hold the white object still.  Her swing landed the hammer head squarely on Dixie's knuckle with the full force of the heavy pounder.

"Ouch," screamed Dixie, pulling back her hand to her chest so she could get a closer  look at the damage. With her automatic reaction to jerk backwards, she lost her footing and tripped over one of the other Jade fighter's legs, who was looking over Dixie's shoulder to view the operation.

Both Dixie and the other fighter fell down and in the ruckus, Dixie landed on top of the other woman and her bleeding finger was shoved deeply into the mouth of the fighter who had fallen underneath her. Quite involuntarily, the other Ninja bit down on Dixie's broken knuckle. This evidently was excruciating for Dixie who wailed in anguish with a high pitched scream.

Both the Jade leader and the fighter holding the hammer covered their ears to shield them from the high pitch screech of Dixie and the hammer went tumbling through the air. It just so happened that the Jade leader was standing exactly in the right position to stop the hammer from hitting the wall because it bludgeoned her exactly between the eyes.

You could almost see little birdies and hear the tinkle of "coo-coo" as the Jade leader staggered and fell backwards onto a nearby pallet loader on wheels. She was unconscious so she didn't realize that she was rolling across the floor headed toward the stack of their weapons.

The crash caused one of the rifles to fire, which in turn guided a bullet to break a beaker of sulfuric acid, intended for further experimentation with the stubborn marble. The sulfuric acid happened to drip off the table onto the leg of the unconscious Jade leader who woke suddenly by the burning activity on her thigh. In a crazed fury, and blinded by the pain, she stumbled onto Dixie and the other fallen fighter. Enough sulfuric acid was on her clothing that it started burning the other two.

Dixie uncontrollably kicked the leader in the groin and jabbed the other fighter in the face with her elbow, which caused a similar chain reaction by the other fighter, who pulled Dixie's hair causing Dixie to trip toward the fourth fighter who had been watching in amazement.

When Dixie's head butted her in her stomach with such overpowering force she vomited, covering the rest of the clandestine beauties with her putrid dark green and yellowish bile, fully transforming the episode into one miraculous comedy.

Derby and Umpa were sipping tea and studying an unrolled map of the Himalayas.

"This is Junpa Village in Quxu County," said Umpa. I received my Red Dragon training in Junpa."

"Did you have a dragon between your legs too?," asked Derby, earnestly.

"We all have a dragon between our legs dear boy," said Umpa smiling. "Some men have learned to control their dragon and others haven't. But this is what I want to explain to you."

"What do you mean all men have a dragon Umpa," asked Derby, looking down toward his lap. "Until you flung that black marble in my mouth I had a very modest Mr. Winkie, thank you very much."

"Yes but the red dragon is not the object but the spirit of the object," explained Umpa. "You see, you're still very controlled by your instincts. Like a small child, you respond to your physical desires," he continued. "Most American's have come to understand a subtle energy in our bodies called "Chi (pronounced Chee)," but there are two other energies in everyone's body, even more subtle and hardly known about in the West. One is Jing, the other Shen. The Red Dragon is the Yang spirit of Jing. It is the human force which has caused the problems of the modern world."

"The problems of the modern world?," asked Derby astounded. "You mean greed, violence, corruption, hatred, bigotry, war, pestilence and ecological collapse? Because these are the problems we have inherited in our world."

"Yes," said Umpa sadly. "All of it. It is rooted in the spirit of the Red Dragon, unfortunately."

Wednesday 29 December 2010

Chapter Twenty Eight. Turning the corner

The bright three quarter moon beamed irrepressibly over bare trees in the dark morning sky. The dull pulse of the Earth tugged on the sinews of Derby's physiology to remind him that he too was alive, but something was missing. The usual snap of crisp morning electrons weren't popping with their normal vigor in some distant chain of attraction. The steady crack and rumble of invisible pressure which had pushed him along on other mornings was absent as he searched for the reason to move.

Surely his wife and daughter needed him. Some business or associate would require his input. Leaves hung nimbly on branches with no sign of falling. The light of daybreak fractured the stillness and blinding rays came crashing across the house ("roof" added later, retaining original for flavor until some soon future date) tops, invading the morning with relentless necessity.

No where to hide from the question with no answer to return, "Who are you Derby and why aren't you doing whatever it is you should be?"

A clock was ticking somewhere but there was no tick tock ticking. A river was running somewhere but there was no splish splash rippling. Birds were singing somewhere but there were no tweet tweets chirping. All there was was the mounting crush of desperation. The crippling agony of knowing things and seeing solutions but not finding a soul who was interested.

Slowly Derby stared back at his pathetic impression, having contributed so little to a world with such fantastic needs. He realized everything has added up to exactly what it should. All has been a series of choices and nothing matters except the moment.

"Come on dude. Get a grip," the muffled hum seemed to be cheered from the sidelines. "We're with you buddy. We need you more than you know," came the overture. "Now is the time. Right now. There is no other."

Monday 27 December 2010

Chapter Twenty Nine. Walking a Mile in Another Man's Donut Addiction



Walking a Mile in Another Man's Donut Addiction

Derby had been left in a chasm. He was alone in a vacuum. Alone except  for endless chatter in the vast space of his mind. He wandered and drifted. He dreamt and pondered. So many stones to look under. So much to uncover. But mostly he realized he had so much to let go of.

It was a temptation to cling to beliefs, this desire to solve the problems, this conviction of the "I, me, mine" which restricted his freedom. "Who is Derby Joshua Clearwater Ripley? To thine own self be true. Without thinking of good or evil what is your original nature AT THIS MOMENT!? Return to the original uncarved block. Simplify.

Remember the analogy about the horse. We sit atop a horse. A horse of great power and agility. The horse will sometimes run. If allowed the horse will fly on the wind at great speed as if totally unencumbered. When the horse runs out of control, it is easy for us to think we ARE the horse. After enough time of allowing the horse to run free, we can even forget that we sit atop the horse with reins in our hands. The horse is not us. We control the horse.

Umpa had downloaded the "value pack"  to Derby of how mankind had gotten to this point. He delivered his "La lecture de la creme" through the night and Derby eventually slept. When he awoke he couldn't find his body. He couldn't find the room where Umpa had left him.

He had everything he always had had. Total recall of his memories, complete control of his mind. But no senses. He sniffed, or tried to, but there was no sniffer and no smells. His taste buds had never deceived him. "I'll discover the flavor of this state of affairs," he told himself, "and know where I am."

So he tried to smack his lips and move his tongue, but he soon found he had neither, nor were there flavors waiting to be tasted, if he could find his mouth. He looked around but quickly realized he had no eyes to see and nothing to lay eyes onto. He reached out to find anything to touch, in case he was just temporarily blinded, but he had no finger tips because he had no fingers, nor hands or arms, and besides, there was nothing to grab onto. He paused to be very very still. "Listen," he told himself. "Surely there is something to hear!" But no, nothing. No drumming and no ear drum. Just a blank sheet. And a mind. He imagined himself falling backwards onto the emptiness of this void. He drifted once again into the space that allowed him to return to a body. He dreamt that he was a man.

"Hello Derby," said the passenger on the train, who sat next to him in his dream.

"Hello," replied Derby as he sized up the fellow next to him. "Are you dreaming too or have I created you?," he asked earnestly.

"Everything is of your own making," said the stranger. "Your reality is a lesson meant for you. You can imagine having influence and you can choose to act nobly. But the reason for your feet is not for the footprints they leave behind but for walking."

"And what of your feet kind stranger?," asked Derby of his dreamed up traveling companion. "Where are they taking you today?"

"Whereever you lead us Derby. I'm with you!," assured the stranger to our hero.

"Well then, to the donut shop!," suggested Derby, who had a craving for a dozen fresh glazed rounds of fried dough.

Saturday 25 December 2010

Chapter Thirty. Deep Into the Darkness Peering



Deep Into the Darkness Peering

Now the Peninsula is one of the finest hotels in Hong Kong. With breath taking harbour views and unrivaled, legendary elegance near the corner of Salisbury and Hankow Roads in the Tsim Sha Tsui district, the Peninsula couldn't be more remote from the dungeon, where the white marble laid, rocking back and forth after the Jade-fighter fiasco to destroy it had failed.

Derby hardly could remember his night at the Peninsula. The morning after...now that was another story. Waking up and seeing Jeninqua escape the sheets, naked and seductive. Even now thinking about it made him shiver. Except he didn't have a body to shiver in. But he sure feels like shivering with that thought of Jeninqua climbing out of those legendary elegant sheets from that mind blowing suite at the Peninsula, with breath taking harbour views. Shiver, shiver, shiver. "My God where is my body because I can sure feel the shiver."

Rocking back and forth. The white marble, still with inertia. A universe could dwell inside a marble. Couldn't it? Let's think about it for a second. Do you accept the thought of endless space? Or maybe not endless, but here is a number for you. The Milky Way. Just a speck in the whole mind blowing distance of space. It is 100,000 light years across it, containing 100 billion stars. How many galaxies exist in the universe? Well, physicists haven't been able to count too many of them yet. Only about two million have been identified, but they would guess there are about 100,000 million of them. So I won't try to put all those zeroes on the distance, and you and I can agree that doesn't mean it is endless, but it's pretty fucking far. Far out man!

So see, you and I easily accept the thought of nearly endless space...which approaches the concept of infinity. But this one is a little under our radar. What I'm about to discuss with you. The thought of infinintely small stuff. You see, if you accept the one concept, then you have to understand that it goes the other way too. Anything infinitely large means that it has an infinitely small dimension. Put those two concepts together and you start getting the feeling that distance in space only means something when it is held in relation to something else.

Now I'm going to say it. There is no reason that 100,000 million galaxies couldn't exist inside that white marble. We can only speculate about such things. But there is one fact, kind reader which I can confirm for you and remove any doubt which you may have. Derby is inside that white marble. Somehow he is like an egg salad in there mixed up with Jeninqua in the most bizarre way you could imagine. And the white marble is in the dungeon, about as far away from the Peninsula as you can get and still stay in Hong Kong.

But there is another hotel near the dungeon. Or I should say much closer than the Peninsula. It is called the Drummond. A less well known property with much less elegance and legend. We may call it a dump, but it still costs a pretty penny to stay there in Hong Kong.



Mark Sethlang, known as the "blues man" by friends had managed to land himself a gig in Hong Kong. The Duke of Lompowshen (a rich drug smuggler who had elevated himself in the social scene by creating a facade of nobility) had found Mark on Facebook by watching his little YouTube videos.

The Duke wanted to impress his Hong Kong friends that he could fly in an American entertainer. He also loved the blues. But what really got Mark the job was his raw ability of playing the zen flute. You see when Mark picked up that antique style reed instrument, he tapped into the spirit of the Great American Indian Grandfather Spirit. The Duke wasn't nearly attuned to anything so spiritual. In fact, Mark never tried to explain it. Still, what came out of that hollow tube was so primal, that Mark had a glimpse of immortality when those vibrations emanated from the end of that flute.

Not to be too confusing courteous reader, because Mark is nearly a totally innocent bystander in the remarkable events which took place near the Drummond Hotel, while he was snoring under stiff synthetic sheets. You see, a little black mouse climbed out of his guitar case that evening and sniffed its way to the dungeon, just three blocks away.

And just as the little white marble was about to stand still, while the Jade fighters were about to be liquified for their ineptness to destroy it, by the thick black scrunge dripping down the walls, otherwise known as the chief of Scontandia, Mark's black mouse zipped across that dirty floor.

Yes a creature came stirring, and even a mouse! But not one of the slap stick fighters, nor even the powerful Dr. Evil,



occupying his favorite embodiment of thick sludge on dingy dungeon walls saw the scampering rodent.

And with the mind of lord or lady, without a moment stopped or stayed he, our little scamp came charging to that saintly marble on the dank and cruddy floor. Here he swallowed that marble and off he scurried to the other door. Will we see him evermore?

uh, yeah

Friday 24 December 2010

Chapter Thirty One. Nice and Cozy in the White Marble



Nice and Cozy in the White Marble

Funny the things that will cross a person's mind when they find themselves in a state of limbo. Not having a body isn't totally without benefits. For one, you don't get hungry. Actually, you have a certain "body memory" so you have this imitation hunger, which is actually a form of addiction and addicitions are much more lingering than true energy (but that is another story--and you poor reader have quite a lot on your plate with keeping track of white marbles and black marbles and mice and spinning wheels and whatnot, so we'll cut you a little slack...this time). Derby found himself with the thought that he hasn't been able to check email or Facebook for about a week.

A week? Is that all it has been? Wow, actually less than a week. All this can happen in less than a week? Well I guess if the Milky Way is 100,000 light years across


COBE image of the Milky Way

just to be clear...100,000 light years across means that if you could travel at the speed of light (which we're gaining traction on discovery but not nearly close to having any technology like that yet), it would take you 100,000 years to get from this little piggy to that little piggy.

But wait, there's more! (If you order now)...That is just one dinky little galaxy. Now there are expected to be about 100,000 million (that's right 100,000,000,000) galaxies. So to hop in your spiffy Jettson's speedster and zip across it all it would take...100,000,000,000,000,000 light years to meet your buddy at Paul's.

So, if all that can fit in a white marble (which it can and does, but again, don't want to overload you cherished lover), I guess lots can happen in a week. You see, as much can happen in the 100,000th of a second as could happen in the 14.7 billion years since the big bang. Hint, hint. There is a correlation between what we think of as time and what we think of as distance (space). In case you hadn't noticed, you just pretty much covered all the ground work of E=MC2 in those last few paragraphs. See, quantum physics can be sexy! Bet you didn't know that...

Thanks for tagging along on that sideline expedition of Derby does Einstein, but the point is that Derby found himself thinking about stuff which he hadn't been able to while villains are blasting his family jewels and a new girlfriend is being swallowed by his gargantuen red peni...scratch that...red dragon. So email and Facebook...yeah, he wondered what has been going on there.

Well, we shouldn't tell him because he would just worry about it, but there was email from Mark Sethlang that he was being called out of town unexpectedly to perform in Hong Kong, and if Derby had a chance, would he mind giving him a ride, once he got back home.

There was other stuff too, but we won't go into it. His buddy Donny Sideburns had a record number of comments on a thread about his confectionary business. There were also the usual thousands of fan mail love letters to him about Children of Zol. But we certainly don't want him to know that because we figure one body part being extraordinarily too large is quite enough for one day without also contributing to the size of his head....

Besides thinking of home, Pam and Barbie, emails, FB, new friends, new fantasies, there was one huge new blast in his mind about the most recent dream he had while in this extraordinary bodiless state of perdition (well, that is too harsh because the truth is we all deal in this state but don't notice it because our bodies are such "high maintenance" and seem to always be getting the extra grease). So the dream...

do you mind? because if you would prefer we get back to the action adventure, we can do that too?

You don't mind? How sweet of you! Kiss.

OK, so in this dream, he had been frustrated because he had been constantly trying to reach his mother on his cell phone but wasn't able to. It was as if there was no signal or it would never ring, or whatever. But he never got close to a connection with her. That was just going on as sort of the pulling thread of the story but he was in a car doing that, looking for something.

He found himself on a one way street going the wrong way and people were signaling to him, "Wrong way, turn around!," but he persevered and finally found a parking place.

Derby left his car there and got out to a beautiful park like place where people had started to gather. There was a band warming up that was going to play to the audience in the park but Derby was preoccupied. One he was still trying to call his Mother every few minutes and two he was facing the wrong direction to watch the band.

Then it happened. The really freaky thing that was so real and so familiar. This guy, like an Indian guy who seemed like an old old friend had come right next to Derby outside and said the strangest thing. It seemed he meant, "Listen" but he said "Don't listen." It was as if he directly was explaining, without using words, that Derby was faced the wrong way to hear the music, so he should pay attention to hear it. But the words he used were DON'T LISTEN!

And the dude himself. He was like a strong Indian man, very wise, and in a way like had known Derby all his life, but for the life of him, as Derby thought about the guide now, he couldn't place him. But it was obvious that the man was a spiritual guide and may have been the main angel in Derby's life.

What brought Derby's attention that the Indian man (let's call him Waahumm--if you're lucky we'll get around to that name later, believe me it has significance!)...Waahumm was there in the first place, Derby felt a little pressure on the back of his head where he felt the back of the cap. He was wearing one of those Irish style touring caps


And the pressure was like some big animal was biting the back of the cap right at the intersection of his head so he could feel the small sensation of the bite. But it was very controlled, like by an animal which was being playful and loving.

So Derby's response to Yaahumm was, "What is biting me back there?"

Without needing an anser he learned it was the big black German Sheppard which was just as familiar and unfamilar as Yaahumm himself. Like the pair came in a package. And the German Sheppard seemed in many ways to be the much better friend to Derby than Yaahumm was. The dog was a mature female and huge. Very strong with a fierce jaw but very gentle, and this part is weird...smiling!

The dog came up along side of Derby, on the other side from Yaahumm and Derby was so happy to see it. He started scratching her chest and talking to her with baby talk. He was practically face to face with her and he realized that this better be the dog he thought she was because this frigging animal could rip his face off effortlessly.

But the dog was obviously so devoted and Derby was obviously its true master and oldest friend. The love ran so deep that it would be nearly an excruciating pain to once again be parted.

Yaahumm and Derby exchanged some small talk and then Derby screamed out, "Look." And on his arms, both arms, tatoo writing had manifested. Like heiroglyphs or Egyptian letters and symbols, like bands around his wrists and arms. Derby couldn't understand them but he knew they were instructions or meant a lot. Yaahumm was amazed but kept his cool. It was as if he wished they had appeard on his arms. He mentioned something about what it meant, but not the actual meaning of the words. He wasn't "evolved" enough to know that, but he seemed to indicate that Derby was.

The amazing thing about the dream is that it was overwhelmingly positive and left such a wonderful feeling. No sadness. Not the hint of anything bad about it. One of those "Today is the first day of the rest of your life" feelings.

The writing was also very colorful and wonderous. It faded back off his skin and Yaahumm said something about that too.

Let's see. Is this chapter already so long that to give you some more story about the development of the marble and getting back to Umpa would be over taxing you kind reader?

The narrator scrolls up, takes a sip of coffee, reflects about particular friends and smiles to himself...

"Oh shit," he thinks to himself. "They can handle it." But we'll keep 'er concise and avoid any more physics or math problems ok?

So it seems Umpa had bumped into Mark in the Ganzhou airport before the Blues man boarded his train to Hong Kong and long before Mark would make his way to the Drummond Hotel, blocks away from the Dungeon of tell-tale-heart.

There were the customary apologies and excusing of each other when the large open shirted Umpa and the hair-in-his-eyes slightly-rushed-anxious traveler bumped into one another. Without the flautist's inkling of "transfer-said-mouse here," a friendly black mouse jumped out of Umpa's pocket and onto Mark's twelve string guitar case (the dobro case was in his other hand). You see, "slipping someone a Mickey" has a whole new meaning in this context doesn't it cherished reader?





So this is surely enough for one day. Geah-ahead, get back to your other distractions. But first a little peck on my cheek. Right cheer.

Mmmmmwaaaa! Thanks!

Chapter Thirty Two. Fire Fire Everywhere but Ne'er a Flame to Drink



Fire Fire Everywhere but Ne'er a Flame to Drink

When you exist as egg salad, amidst hundreds of thousands of millions of galaxies, all snuggled inside a white marble, you would think you would be less sensitive to the movement of the globe. But as the black mouse that had "exited stage left" from the scene of the crime at dungeon central was scampering along the streets of Hong Kong toward the upstairs laundry, Derby thought he perceived movement.

"Hello?" Derby asked, without a voice and without a mouth.

No reply. Just the slightest feeling of difference to the situation.

"Hello? Jeninqua? Umpa? What is happening?," with this Derby realized he was thinking, just how you always do when anticipating a conversation, but this time it was very different. I'll loan you my bodilessness sometime and you'll get the idea.

"Is someone out there?," Derby continued to voice mouthlessly. "Because if you're out there, I need a little help here. Dragon? Dragon buddy...is that you? Could use a little pick-me-up boy."

Derby tried to look between his legs but he didn't have legs to look at and didn't have eyes to see with. He didn't even have a neck so he could bend down to look. Just swirling thoughts and a teeny tiny indication of mobility.

The mouse was already low to the ground, sniffing along, but when a white marble containing a hundred million universes has been digested, it tends to rub along the ground like a bowling ball being pulled in a burlap bag by an angry twelve year old. Sort of like the action of a steel wheeled jalopy with rusted out coil springs bumping along a dry dirty road with a thousand pot holes.

"I'm sure I can tell something is happening out there!" said Derby who had formerly referred to himself as the guy who could feel the pea under a hundred mattresses.

Clump, clank, clop, bounce, boing. The mouse trudged along and even managed to navigate the stairs to the apartment over the laundry.

"Trevor!," greeted Umpa delightedly to the belly dragging mouse. "We're so happy you're here! Bai Ling, give Trevor some refreshment!"

Dear Reader. I have to tell you. Yes, we know Jeninqua is a stone cold fox and all. But little Bai Ling. She's a cutie too. I think we may just have to get our own Mary Ann and Ginger debate going on here. Could be an excellent contest on Facebook, whatayathink?

Bai Ling lovingly picked up Trevor, gave him a sweet small nose kiss and set him on the table which had been prepared for his arrival. The porcelain may have originally been designed for a doll house, but the setting looked as if it was tea service for royalty. There was a dime sized ornate platter laden with tiny pieces of cheese (seven varieties!), and an even smaller saucer with what must have been just a few drops of honey. There was also a  miniature tea cup of bone china with brewed tea, though only an eye dropper full.

Trevor looked up at Bai Ling and wiggled his whiskers as if to say, "Right on!," and proceeded to chow down.

"Bai Ling," asked Umpa to his charming assistant. "Do you think Mr. Ripley has his belly full of adventure yet?"

"I think at the moment he may be missing his belly!," replied Bai Ling. "But Trevor here seems to have a little room left in his, in spite of the bulge in his abdomen!"

"OK Trevor," said Umpa as if he was talking to a son or an employee. "You know the drill. Spin the wheel!"

With that, Trevor sprung to the adjoining roulette wheel. Working from the inside, the small mouse started running in circles around the hub of the giant wheel. Gradually he was able to move the colorful  disk.  As the mouse increased the circumference of its course, the slotted plate acquired momentum. Soon, the wheel was spinning so fast and the black mouse had swung so far to the outer edge, that all one could see was a solid black streak outlining a dizzying reel.

Slowly, the inertia lost energy and as the blended colors of the spinning device transformed into separate blocks of red and blue, and the occasional black and white on both ends, the streak of black was no longer a line on the outside, but had metamorphosed into a shiny bright white marble.

At first the momentum of the ball seemed to have wheels of its own as it circled the alternating red and blue slots, but eventually, it was bouncing from hole to hole. First a white one. Then a black. Then another black. Then white, white, black, white, black. Ting, tang, clink, clank. Never once stopping in the majority--either red or blue. Always bouncing from the white and black, as if it was trained to only settle in one or the other. Then finally the white globe came to a rest.

Umpa and Bai Ling were held like puppies looking at some unknown phenomena, tranfixed. The white marble was cushioned in a blue crevice!

Thursday 23 December 2010

Chapter Thirty Three. Put the Lime in the Coconut



Put the Lime in the Coconut

It wasn't that it would be so improbable that the marble would land in either the red or blue. It was just that they had become so accustomed to seeing both the white marble and the black (which had been the marbles Derby had transferred energy into while he worked them with his hands) to fall either in the black slot or the white slot.

Bai Ling said, "Umpa, didn't you say that Derby's marbles tend to be very Yang or Yin  and that they are attracted to the white and black notches in the wheel?"

"Yes," replied Umpa emphatically, "but honestly it is not to be considered unexpected that the white marble would fall in either red or blue. Under most circumstances, for most people their marbles would fall in the majority. I suppose my guess would have been that the Yang marble of Master Ripley would have been more likely to fall in the red than blue, but remember Bai Ling, this information is important for us to continue to understand him. Much magic resides in his balls!"

Bai Ling looked at Umpa carefully to see if he had intended to make her laugh or to throw her off guard. But Bai Ling was well trained in meditation and the martial arts, and was quite equipped to catch a slung dart and to return it to her target..."Umpa, who has more magic in his balls? You or Derby's deepest self?"

"Haha," burst Umpa. "Very good little one! But before I answer, have you checked the magic in your balls lately?"

Again Bai Ling received the dart, examined it and returned it at full speed. "I don't tell people about such things Master," she said coyly, "just as I wouldn't discuss any other fruits hanging from my person!"

"Enough mental gymnastics little one. Trust me, you need many more lessons to spar with me. For your information. Derby has more magic in his balls," said Umpa, almost with an edge of disappointment. "But, he won't have access to most of it for years to come! Now here is some magic for you my little flower!"

With that, Umpa flung a nearby vase through the air toward her. He managed to do this without touching it from the table, simply by swiping his finger as if he was slinging a bead on an abacus.

"Easy Teacher!" yelled Bai Ling as she caught the flying vase and gently set it on the table near her. "That is a delicate piece."

Without hesitating Umpa repeated his performance, this time slinging the white marble from the blue slot.

Again, Bai Ling caught it easily and held it in her hand. "What am I to do with Master Ripley's marble, Teacher?," Bai Ling asked of the smiling Buddha.

"Drop it in the vase," replied Umpa. "We have to learn a few more things before proceeding with his lessons.

Wednesday 22 December 2010

Chapter Thirty Four. Stranger in a Strange Land



Stranger in a Strange Land

From the moment the white marble universe came crashing into the pit of the vase, Derby knew that all hell was about to break loose. With each bounce of the shiny white globe against the inside of the delicate vase, he felt as if he was tossed out of a bed, which his body remembered being in. Even though at the moment he had no body that he knew of and couldn't remember quite the last time he was in a bed.

"Kaboom. Ping. Pong. Varoom."

And Derby's world was shaking. "What the hell is going on?," Derby asked himself as he tried to stabilize his body which he currently wasn't housed in.

The kaboom and ping, pong, varoom was heard a second time, as if it had been screamed from the top of the Grand Canyon, along with "Hello!" Then the recall echo came again, this time with less volume--kaboom, ping, pong, varoom.

So Derby decided to add his voice to the mix as he screamed, "Helloooooo?!"

And the salute came back as an echo, "Hello." Then after a minute another, "hello," and then a third more mellow echo, "hello."

To Derby's utter amazement, as he looked out without eyes, and without a head to hold the eyes, and without a neck to look up with, and without his normal long torso to hold his neck, he saw what appeared to be a monster face staring down from the heavens. And with the vision of the monster from above came the sound of "Fe, fi, fo, fum," except the words were, "Derby my boy! Are you quite well?"

The monster was Umpa! Derby felt a sense of relief, nearly convinced after all this time that he was simply consciousness held in suspension.

"Umpa," he yelled to hear the recall, "Umpa, Umpa, umpa, umpa." He continued, "Is that you," then "that you. you. you. you"

"Yes my boy," said the monster head of Umpa from above, who was simply his normal Buddha self looking down into the vase. Umpa continued to instruct our hero. "I need you to look with your eyes, without seeing and see without looking."

Derby raised his non-existent arm to scratch his non-existent head. "Look with my eyes (which I don't have as far as I can tell) without seeing and see without looking?" What the hell is that suppose to mean?

But as he tried to follow the big man's recommendation, he imagined seeing his arm holding his hand scratching his head. And he saw it!

"As things start to come into focus, you will become very concerned about what you see," warned Umpa. He continued, "Your marble settled in the blue. This explains so much! But now we will no longer be able to hide the surprise which will no doubt cause you grave concern."

Derby felt the knot in his stomach as his body became more and more clear to the eyes in his head.

"You see," said Umpa, "That even though your deepest self is extremely Yang, you have a Yin influence in the second position, which is stabilized with five Yang layers underneath it."

Derby was totally at a loss to know what any of this meant but mostly he was so shocked by what he was seeing of his person, that he was unable to focus on much else except his body.

"But then," Umpa continued, "your marble settled in the crystal clear blue influence of water. Your fire inside will be overwhelmingly repositioned as your water will steam. And you will learn to accept your yin influences which are so close to the top of your total psychic self.

"I want to hear my voice," said Derby as he tested the reverb in the valley, to hear the reply, "voice, voice, voice."

Exactly as he was afraid to learn. The echo was of Jeninqua's voice. Derby assumed he was in Jeninqua's body. But he wasn't.

Tuesday 21 December 2010

Chapter Thirty Five. I Dream of Jeninqua



I Dream of Jeninqua

The speed with which the mind works is really an amazing thing. It had only been a fraction of a second since Umpa had prepared Derby for the shock he was about to experience. But Derby's consciousness had sped forwards and backwards.

He relived all the experiences since boarding Panfran Flight 1622 to Hong Kong, including the first time he laid eyes on Jeninqua aboard the plane and also the rear view of her naked body in the hotel room the next morning. He vividly recalled the details of the flight of the Red Dragon with Jeninqua mounted aboard his missile and barely the space for their skin between them.

"I'm having the body sensations that she experiences," Derby thought to himself as he rubbed his/her arm with his/her hand. He explored, for the briefest of experiments his/her inner thigh with his/her hand, but he quickly pulled back.

"This is too weird," he caught himself thinking.

His thoughts flew to before the flight to Hong Kong, of getting the call from Justin Scoville from Planetary Publishing. He noticed that these images seemed more foreign. So he concentrated on his boyhood, of growing up in Roughskin Heights. He imagined the little square houses, all placed on a larger square grid. He thought of the folding door between the living room and one of the bedrooms.

These thoughts were even more foreign, as if they were out of place in this feminine head he seemed to be wearing at the moment. So he thought of Jeninqua and tried to imagine her life. He found that this generated a certain body sensation! He felt the sizzle and snap of energy. He tried to crystalize any details of her life which he couldn't possibly have ever known of.

Suddenly, he remembered his Cocker Spaniel, as a boy, Poco. He remembered caring for the dog and loving it. Again, he felt the same physical sensation of energy flow within this foreign body which he oddly found himself occupying.

"What if I just dwell on the energy itself?," he asked himself. As he did that, again, another image of his life from another period prior to Panfran Flight 1622 presented itself. It was with Barbie, his daughter. She was suffering from her first puppy love broken heart and Derby was able to support her by offering her unconditional love and understanding. He remembered her collapsing into him and his being able to remove the actual anxiety energy which had originally seemed so crippling to her. As he accepted the negative force into his own body, he had the satisfaction of knowing his sacrifice would speed-up her healing time.

As Derby allowed himself to experience these feelings of nurturing, he noticed he became quite relaxed into the body of beautiful Jeninqua.

Now that he had eyes and a head to hold them, he could look around and he was amazed to find a beautiful exotic round sofa and a burning candle. He was in a bottle!

"How can I find this to be relaxing?," he wondered to himself as he fell back on to the over-stuffed shiny pillows.

"My God, I'm wearing see-through chiffon pantaloons!," Derby murmered to himself as he felt the material and by so doing also softly touched his legs. He looked closely at his thin fingers and took note of the sensation of where his foreign fingertips softly explored the baby like skin on his foreign legs.

Looking down at the furry center just below the supple skin around his/her belly button, Derby struggled with a confusing array of feelings. The hairs seemed so clean and soft and lovely from one perspective but sickening from another view, because he knew he now lived here.

Almost without being able to stop himself, his thin delicate fingers reached for the pubic area he had breifly seen back in the Peninsual Hotel. The thin fabric offered no resistance but did add a layer of excitement as his lovely fingers explored the patch of soft fiber.

Suddenly he was gripped with overwhelming shame when he heard the monster-like voice of Umpa rattle the inner chamber of his "I Dream of Jeninqua" bottle. Derby withdrew his probing fingers and turned his attention up toward the opening of the vase. He could tell that Umpa could see him and he felt naked, even though slightly covered by the veil like chiffon costume. As he crossed his arms to shield the view of his/her firm round breasts, he heard his Jeninqua voice exclaim:

"Umpa, change me back to myself! Enough is enough!"

"Nothing is different with you my son except your perspective," explained Umpa. "You are who you are!"

"I seem to be Jeninqua and I'm in a bottle talking to a monster head," yelled Derby in Jeninqua's delicate voice.

"Yes my son, you're a lovely specimen indeed," resounded the voice from above.

"Well you're a big fat jerk," said the tiny feminine voice. Derby noticed his words in this mouth seemed a little strange on exit, but he continued. "So work your voodoo-fiddle-dee-hocus-pocus rumpus bumpus, and give me back my pecker!"

"Your body is adjusting to your true self," echoed Umpa's voice, down the neck of the vase to Derby's pretty new ears. "Make yourself comfortable. When you find your true center, you'll learn that you are not your body."

"I'm not my body now ass-hole," said the crisp sexy Jeninqua voice with as husky an edge as Derby was able to lend it. I've got a pussy and tits and an ass most chics would kill for. The only center I see is a juicy sweet spot I used to dream about where once a dragon emanated from. Go to hell!"

Derby turned himself over so his beautifully curved rump faced the heavens and buried his face in the exotic shiny pillows. His new body trembled as the tears flowed and he cried and cried just like a little girl.

Monday 20 December 2010

Chapter Thirty Six. That Time of Month



That Time of Month

"The feelings a person has change, based on gender."

When Derby awoke from his long sleep, he found himself immersed in contemplation.

"I haven't talked to Barbie in forever! I hope she's well. And her mother, my gosh, my Pammie Poo, are they doing ok? I'm sure they're worried sick without hearing from me."

His thoughts were with his family at home but he noticed the texture of the feelings were different than when he would have these same thoughts, as a man.

"Hopefully it is warming up back home and the outside kittie is doing ok. Oh, the outside kittie!"

And with that thought, Derby found him/her self unable to control the emotions that overpowered her/his crying control center, and the dam broke. Once again, like a hormonal teenage girl, Derby was sobbing out loud, an emotional wreck.

From the thought of the poor defenseless outside kittie cat, his mind flashed to his favorite contestant on The Biggest Loser. "Oh, will Arthur go home? I know they think he's a villain since he broke up the teams, but he needs to be there!"


More tears. More out loud sobbing. 


It wasn't gas. He was sure of that. But something was stirring. He felt as if some pressure, a subtle pressure was causing some discomfort. Did he have to use the restroom? No, not that, exactly.


He decided to examine whatever he had going on downstairs. With that he took a peek.


"Nothing seems too out of place," he said to himself as he stared at his newly remodeled pubic area.


"Sure do miss that mighty dragon!," he joked to himself as he pulled his pretty pantaloons down further to reveal more of what was happening between his legs.


"My God I'm spotting!," he said to himself. "I guess the good news is that I'm not pregnant!"


He looked around his bedroom chamber to see what kind of material was available to forestall this new malady.


"Fucking A," he said to himself in his most familiar internal chatter. "I'm going to have a period. These folks really know how to throw a freak show. Jesus Christ."


There was a tissue like piece of muslin cloth near his couch that Derby was able to tear and roll up into a kind of pad. Never once doing anything remotely similar, he wedged the homespun feminine hygiene "sponge" securely into his private parts, pulled his dainty cute size zero pantaloons back in position and laid back down in his Persian lounge.


"Cramping sucks," he said to himself. "Where's a Midol when you need one?" he wondered, remembering the brand, either from TV ads or from living with women, he wasn't sure which.


His discomfort was compounded when he felt his chamber rocking from the thumping stomp of the approaching monster. Instead of the "Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum," which seemed in order it was, a cheerful greeting:


"Good morning Princess! How's my little darling doing today?," said Umpa, without one hint of sarcasm to the tone of his thunderous voice.


"Not worth a shit," replied Miss Derby angrily. "I don't find this crap amusing anymore. Are we ever going to proceed and let me learn about why I'm really here or so I can meet the people on my book deal? Or are you the head a huge prostitution ring and I'm about to become your biggest money maker?!"


"Now now Derby. Don't be so dramatic," warned Umpa soothingly. "You'll soon have experienced those body sensations of our beloved sisterhood and we'll bring you back to this side of the universe."


"I'm having my period ass-hole. I'm not well and your breath stinks!," yelled Derby who thought he could also smell urine from the monster's underwear. "Do you mind speaking into the vase without blowing your foul wind in my general direction?"


"Looks like someone got up on the wrong side of the sofa this morning," said Umpa. And then Derby heard the thump, thump, thumping of the big Buddha walking away.


"Wait!," yelled Derby desperately. "Don't go! I'll behave! Please, don't leave me!"


But no more bad breath came blowing down the tube. There was nothing left to do but cry and cry some more.

Sunday 19 December 2010

Chapter Thirty Seven. My Fair Lady



My Fair Lady

"Oh Umpa, you're a riot!," Derby said as his Jeninqua self.

Derby had settled into his routine as a Jeninqua in a bottle. He loved his soft clothes and plush surroundings and since he had recovered from his menstrual cycle, he was nearly always in a good mood. Umpa had just cracked a joke about the difference between men and women.

"Derby, my girl," said Umpa patiently, without the least vindictiveness in his voice. "You'll soon be ready for your move to new surroundings. But I'm so happy you've adapted so well to your Jeninqua body!"

"Well thank you Snuggums!," joyfully proclaimed the sweet Jeninqua voice (as Jeninqua, Derby discovered he was able to relate to the smiling Buddha in ways he never would have as the Dragon bearer. "And am I just imagining things or do you cherish visiting me more now that I've got a killer bod?...You animal!"

"Ha," Umpa snapped back quickly. "Don't forget, I've known Jeninqua for a long time, and like you, have seen her without clothing of any kind! But yes, my dear, you are a stone fox!"

"Just as I thought you dirty old Monster," said Derby coyly. "Now be a dear and bring me some more of this luscious Himalayan cashmere yarn."

Seems the Jeninqua Derby had become very fond of knitting, while she lounged in her cozy bottle apartment.

She poured herself another cup of the Jasmine flower tea, drizzled  about a teaspoon of the delicious Calamansi honey from the Hong Kong eatery, Mango Medley (Umpa and Bai Ling spoiled Miss Derby with lots of exotic touches) and continued with her project, a cute little sweater for his niece's new baby boy.

"A stitch in time saves nine," she told herself, as her nimble fingers did the delicate work of the little Miss he had become. "Oh this is darling!," she said to herself, admiring her work.

"Derby honey," said the small voice of Bai Ling, from the nozzle of the tower over Derby's head. "How do you want today's news? Just forward it to your smart phone or on the live feed to your tellie? (Derby's "I Dream of Jeanni" pad was adorned with the traditional Mideastern Genie finishings but was also tricked out with the latest technology).

"Oh thank you sweetie," said Derby to his BFF Bai Ling. "Just send it to the boob tube and I'll watch it here in a minute."

"Just so you know, there's more disgusting news about Charlie Sheen," came the warning as the angelic voice of Bai Ling.

"Oh, God, I know!," agreed Derbinqua. "Men are such pigs!"

"Most of the time they let their little brain do their thinking for them," joked Bai Ling, as if she were exchanging observations with a band of sisters on a Sex in the City episode.

"Why can't a man be more like a woman!," asked the princess in the bottle, in her best impersonation of Henry Higgins. "Oh and Bai Ling...promise you'll never leave my side. I've grown accustomed to your face!"

"Cross my heart," promised the petite monster whose face filled the heavens, from the couch view of the bottle. "Never shall we part, as long as your heart stays pure!"

Saturday 18 December 2010

Chapter Thirty Eight. The Trap Door


The Trap Door

"What do you mean I've become a real bitch?," asked Derby to the big face which stared down the top of the vase.

Umpa was careful how he chose his words. "Derby. You are not a man or a woman at the very essence of yourself. You're pure spirit. As is everything at the very base of essence."

"But you said I've been nasty and whiny and acting like a spoiled, pampered bitch," repeated Derby. He crossed his arms and stuck out his bottom lip and threw himself/herself on the soft pillows of his apartment lounge.

"And so you have, my pretty little princess. And so you have!" Umpa winked to the tiny doll of a Jeninqua, sprawled out on the circular sofa in the vase. "And you're about to further integrate the various attributes of your character!"

Derby, in his Jeninqua body, found the right muscle mechanism to arch his/her beautifully sculpted eye brow. "And how will I," and here he maneuvered his fine Jeninqua first and middle fingers on both hands to make quotation marks "further integrate my attributes?"

"By finding your black marble at the base of yourself!," responded a proud Umpa, as if announcing the birth of a new bouncing grandson. 

At first Derby continued to recline, even as he stared down across his generous bosom, past his exposed belly button, across his pantaloons, and to his shiny dainty slippers. Finding no evidence of a marble anywhere on his lovely torso, arms or legs, he stood up.

Looking down again, Derby asked, "And where will I first find the base of myself?"

"Derby, my boy...for I still think of you as a boy, even though you've been Jeninqua for over a month now," gently lead the smiling Buddha to the vase bound prisoner. "This whole vase is you and everything about it."

"And what does that mean?," demanded Derby, as if he were a housewife who had just been told she should keep her place.

"Of course you remember being in a limbo state without a body?" asked Umpa.

"Of course," conceded Derby.

"Nothing has really ever changed before or after that limbo state!," exclaimed Umpa excitedly.

"Excuse me?" snapped Derby cupping his hands under his breasts. "What are these, egg salad?"

"Hahaha!" trumpeted Umpa. "Well in many ways yes! You see, as Jeninqua and you and all the circumstances that went into the merger, you were sort of like an egg salad while you existed within the white marble."

With that, the lovely Jeninqua in a bottle, threw herself back on to her overstuffed pillows, as if exasperated. "Umpa, please," he/she blirted in a very pouty voice. "You give me a dragon for my Mr. Willie. You give me these," again cupping his hands under his pair of cupcakes, "to kill-for boobies. You make me laugh and I swear, I don't even remember what it feels like to have a swinging weenie. But what the HELL are you talking about? and what torture am I about to have to endure now?!!!"

"Surely you understand that you, like all things of the Earth, have both Yin and Yang natures?," taught the guru.

"Yes, yes," agreed Derby, waving the back of his fingers as if he were brushing away a fly. "Yin Yang, water, fire, blah, blah, blah. You've told me a hundred times if you've told me once!"

"Now don't get the water and fire confused with the Yin and the Yang," continued Umpa. "I mean, water is Yin and Fire is Yang, but what I've been teaching you about water and fire are elements within major nested Holons." Here Umpa stopped and stared down at the princess to see her reaction.

"Oh Christ Umpa," argued Derby. "Just send me down a chimney sweeper to blow out my pipes, or give me back my tally whacker, but please stop talking in circles!"

"Open the hatch door at your feet. On the edge of the carpet, you'll find a tab. Pull it up," instructed Umpa.

Immediately Derby threw open the hatch door and discovered a small downstairs compartment under his lounge area. "Holy shit Batman!," declared the Derbinqua Meister. "What have we here?"

"Go grab the black marble at the base of the stairs," said Umpa to the astonished bottle dweller. "In your present state, you are mostly your Jeninqua self. But when you grab that black ball from your lower chamber, you better hold on to your tits. Because you're about to undergo one more metamorphosis!"

Friday 17 December 2010

Chapter Thirty Nine. I'm on the Top Step



I'm on the Top Step

"I AM the whole vase!," Derby repeated to him/herself, scratching the head beneath the smooth and shiny  thick, black hair of Jeninqua. "How is that possible?," he wondered further.

A single candle flickered on the wall of the small hidden room. Derby peered down into the darkened basement beneath the lounge area where he had spent the last month as a spoiled exotic female. Never once had he imagined that his confinement quarters were actually a loft apartment above a secret chamber.

"Embrace the black marble from my lower chamber and be transformed!," he repeated to himself as he took the first step down the spiral staircase.

"What does Umpa mean that nothing ever really changed from before I was in a limbo state or after?," Derby asked himself as he took the second step toward the small confluence of the stairway and the base of the vase.

"I, like all things of the Earth, have Yin and Yang influences. Of course, this is pure second grade Eastern philosophy," thought Derby to himself, reflecting on his last conversation with the Smiling Buddha monster. "But what does he mean about not confusing the water and fire with Yin and Yang?" He took his third step down the winding spiral with that question.

Within his chest, beneath the voluptuous breasts of Jeninqua, he felt his slightly accelerated heartbeat. Derby raised his right hand to take a pulse reading of his heart but paused as his hand encountered his left breast. He often encountered a surprise reaction by touching himself. At first there was a kind of sexual stimulation as his internal male reacted to his own touch, fondling a stranger's well endowed breast. Now as he felt his own female part, he felt it lovingly but sensually and again was stimulated but in a different way. This time he got turned on imagining the touch of the male Derby.

Here was Derby as Jeninqua, feeling his own boob and thinking about being touched by Derby the man! His heart beat harder as he took the next step. The candle flickered as if a wind blew into the downstairs compartment.

"Who AM I?," Derby asked himself as the confusion of his touch and the swirling other questions raised by Umpa's last teaching session filled his head. As his right foot fell to the next step, his heart beat a little harder and the candle once again fluttered.

"In your present state, you are mostly your Jeninqua self," Derby heard Umpa say. Now he repeated that statement to himself as his left foot reached for the next step. As he descended into the dark chamber below his heart beat continued to grow stronger. As he raised both hands to his breasts and felt the swelling pulse of his chest, there was no sexual impulse, only fear. And the candle flame danced.

"What thuh...," and poor Derby nearly wet himself when he saw the shadow of  buxom female on the wall of the vase. "Oh God, it's just me!"

And he took his next step. He thought he noticed the flame grow a little fainter.

"You were sort of like an egg salad as you and Jeninqua and all the circumstances merged." Derby rewound the tape in his head of Umpa's words. "While you existed in the white marble. White marble. White marble. Being in the white marble." Derby's mind raced with the details of his journey but nothing beat as fast or as hard as his throbbing heart as he took another step toward the base of the vase.

Step after step, around and down the narrow staircase, Derby slowly descended into the darkened room. He noticed it was perceptively cooler with each narrowing step toward the bottom and the flame continued to flicker and lose illumination. For a moment he thought he felt someone touch his shoulder but when he looked back there was nothing except the shadow which grew taller behind and above him.

"You better hold on to your tits," Umpa had said and he found himself grabbing them as if they were emergency equipment. His breath was timed with the pounding of his heart, which grew stronger as the light grew dimmer.

Again he thought someone or something was behind him. He felt some breath on his neck and he turned quickly to catch the intruder but there was nothing, though the shadow seemed to sway and grow taller.

As he took the last step, the candle flame spit and sputtered. He felt his own heart try to jump out of his chest as the light died. Derby was engulfed in total darkness.




...GOTCHA!

Thursday 16 December 2010

Chapter Forty. Your Touch is Unwelcome Here


Your Touch is Unwelcome Here


The day before Derby left for Hong Kong, his daughter Barbie had just finished her fourth 5K run. Barbie hadn't shown an interest in fitness until last Fall when she enrolled in cross-country in the junior high at Tiny Town.

Derby had thought that since Barbie and he had started running together that maybe this would provide an opportunity for the pair to get closer. Funny how you so freely distribute love to the rest of the world but seem to be the hardest on the ones you love the most. Well, I don't know that it is funny at all. Sad, I guess is a better word.

Now his wife Pam and daughter Barbie were thousands of miles away and would not have a clue what the Patriarch was living through. He hoped they were having fun and that they were safe. He knew that he had left when times were difficult. The Ripleys desperately needed the money which had been dangled in front of him like a dog biscuit for a starving greyhound just before the race.

As he reflected on it now, he was very glad that the ten thousand dollars had been transferred to their account. But would he ever return to see them? Would the story of Zol really be published or had their lives been ruined as a result of his telling the fractured fairy tale? As it is, Zol is written in an experimental medium, integrating social media devices such as videos and Wikipedia and phony websites and even a style of music--can that type of writing be successfully translated to print?

All of this and a lifetime of other questions and mysteries seemed to crowd into the dark space of his mind as Derby shivered in the drafty confines of the pitch black last step, below the vase apartment.

With his foot used as a tester of solid ground, Derby explored the floor with the soul of his shiny slippers. "Aha," he said to himself when he encountered the round hard object under his foot. "The marble!"

"Should I take it back up stairs to confirm it is the black marble as Umpa had suggested?," he wondered.

"Maybe I should just swallow it now? After all, it was the black marble that Fredalnte had originally forced out of me," Derby thought to himself as he reached down and toward the round sphere near his foot.

He wasn't sure exactly in what order the disturbing incidents which followed occurred. Had he touched the marble first or had the hand grabbed his wrist? At the very moment it happened, it didn't really matter because Derby was already besides himself with fear after the slow descent into the black abyss.

Either the tips of his fingers had made contact with the marble when the boney fingers wrapped themselves around his feminine carpus or the grip of the hand around his wrist grabbed him just before he touched the marble. He wasn't sure which. But a hand reached out from somewhere and had a firm grip on his wrist.

"Who or what has ahold of me?," Derby wondered in the racing seconds as his own fingers closed tightly around the marble. And as he wondered this another set of hands grabbed the opposite ankle.

Wildly, Derby swung and kicked with all of his might, occasionally hitting or kicking the stairwell and the wall of the vase, which seemed more at the moment to be a rock wall of a prison cell. It was cold and dark and extremely scary because all of his effort seemed useless. He never once connected with an animal or a being of any kind!

Still, the hands kept coming. First on the calves of his legs, hands seemed to be reaching up from a pit further below, clawing at him with wet slimy fingers. His arms too were invaded by hands reaching from nowhere pulling him first to the left then to the right.

His groin, his belly, his breasts, his neck and face. Nothing was immune to the ceaseless struggle of bony wet claws, not of animal flesh but of skin, of hands, desperately climbing all over his body. But all seemed to be reaching from some void in the darkness.

Derby realized his struggle was pointless as the hands tore at him and stretched him in all directions. If it was possible that the room could be darker, Derby was sure it seemed to be plunged into impossible blackness.

"What am I to do with this marble?," Derby asked himself as the hands pulled him to the floor.




Swarming him like snakes or spiders the hands were now like legions of desperate beings covering him and touching him in every possible inch of his body. Derby tried to move but felt as if he were tied to the floor with ropes and stakes and the hands continued to comb him and crawl on him as if they were thousands of creeping insects.

His eyes were held wide open by these slimy hands, though he couldn't see a thing. Some probed his nostrils and ears. Even his anus was violated by the fingers from Hell. Finally, as if a team of the hands were working in concert, his mouth was pried open. Derby concentrated on the fingers in his mouth.

"What is that awful taste?," Derby wondered as the boney phalanges probed inside his mouth. "Is there more than one hand in my mouth?," he asked himself. He could move his eyeballs and his tongue, but wasn't able to physically move any other part of his body.

Darting to the left and right, his eyes could see nothing, even though they were being held wide open by these mysterious creeping fingers.

"No," he screamed as the army of hands and fingers forced open his hand which held the marble. "Nooooooooo!," he screamed louder as he felt it taken away.

Wide his mouth was open. Perhaps three or four sets of hands were ripping his mouth wider, as if to tear it away from his face.

The plop of the marble against the back of his throat was actually a relief. Because all the struggle ended, and for a brief moment, Derby was at peace.

Wednesday 15 December 2010

Chapter Forty One. You Got Chocolate in My Peanut Butter



You Got Chocolate in My Peanut Butter

In Derby's present condition, it would seem that a plop plop fizz fizz of a black marble to the back of the throat would be the perfect antidote to turmoil. And for just a moment, it was. At least the brigade of slimy fingers had ceased their probing insurgency.

First there was a gurgling which emanated  from his gastrointestinal tract. Then poor Derby was thrown into violent convulsions. After that his actions could only have been described as comical, were they not so painful to experience, if there had been anyone to watch.

Since you, dear reader, are the only ones to discover his frantic and bizarre impersonations of notable evil doers, we'll trust that you are well prepared to bare witness to the tragic consequences that followed.

As if ball bearings were bouncing around inside his head, Derby's face seemed to be pushed from under the skin by tiny forces trying to escape. You could hear his agony as these facial protrusions pushed his skin, with each, "aaa," and "ooo" as his cheeks and eye muscles were stretched and mangled like knuckles behind a rubber mask.

"My name is Pol Pot of Khmer Rouge and I am the Prime Minister of Cambodia!," said Derby, after his facial convulsions stopped and he was left with slanted smiling eyes and a big mouthed grin. He may have been convincing as the dictator who destroyed the lives of two million farmers if it wasn't for his delicious breasts, held loosely in shimmering chiffon. He was still adorned in his shiny thin pantaloons but he now sported a huge belly and what appeared to be a rather large "package" in the crotch area of his dainty panties.

Waving his hands to an audience that didn't exist, he persisted with his rant:

"I order you and you and you (not you with the axe handle, you're cute) and you and you to the Killing Fields. Men, remember. Don't waste ammunition," Derby continued, now talking to another non-existent crew of followers. "Use axes and hammers, spades and sharpened bamboo sticks. And make it snappy!"

Then his cheeks and eye lids, temples, neck and forehead started boiling again which left him with a small square mustache and very stern eyes. "Achtung," Derby announced while his right hand shot to attention and his fingers pointed skyward in a stiff salute. "Mein meatballs aber sprechen delicious!," he announced, obviously confusing some of Hitler's more memorable orations.

"Mein momma da ist noch a pooty tat!," said Adolph Derby, reflecting a boy's love for mother and kitty. "Now grab your chalk and meet me at the sidewalk!," he demanded of his imaginary followers. If you watched closely you would have noticed him adjusting his miniscule pee-pee in his britches, as he turned to lead his flock to the pavement.

Again his facial muscles snapped and pulsed, stretched and popped, this time turning poor Derby's face in to that of a deformed Mongolian.

"Chaka Khan, Chaka Kan," said the crazed Derby the Hun. "I'll trade my empire for the funk of Rufus!" (His time machine seemed to have been slightly out of whack). "Across the Rhine and into Gaul, to Grandmother's House we go!," he screamed, before once again falling into convulsions and suffering the pain of facial disfiguration. As he flip flopped, he was careful to protect the bulging empire in his pants, easily the grandest of its kind from the Danube to the Baltic Sea.

Courteous Reader. Even though you are watching the troubling, exorcist-like horror unfold in the privacy of your own computer terminal, Umpa was speculating to Bai Ling what was taking place at the pit of the vase.

"I'm sure Derby is feeling the mild transition between his Yin and Yang natures. You see Bai Ling," explained Umpa, "all of the vase is Derby. But since he climbed into Jeninqua and not the other way around, he spent the last 43 days as his Jeninqua self. When he traversed his darkest, hidden characteristics, and descended to his deepest self, he found his shiny black marble--his true Yin."

Bai Ling objected. "But Umpa, Derby is extremely Yang, I've heard you tell me repeatedly," she reasoned. "So why is it that he'll find his true Yin nature at the base of himself?"

"I know it is confusing little one," answered Umpa to his darling apprentice. "It is primary Yin inside Yang which makes his character so strong. It is also what makes him a leader and extremely creative!"

Little did Umpa know that it wasn't Derby's black marble which was slung into the back of his throat but the shiny white Yang of the Scontandia Chief himself! The dark magic of Scontandia is beyond what most of us will ever understand, but trust me, it is measure by measure as powerful as Umpa's illuminating art.

"Please to come here all you Russian peasants!," spoke Derby the Terrible to the thousands of Cossaks he was about to slaughter. "My soldiers will measure your wee-wees!," he exclaimed, obviously obsessed with the size of his own equipment. "Whichever man stands taller than I, he shall be eliminated!" Had a crowd actually been assembled and cast their eyes to spy on the diminutive nook between the Tsar's legs, they would have immediately known that they were all doomed to perish.

And so it went in the one man play at the bottom of the vase of Derby, as he transformed from one bad guy to another, each with their own peculiar evil and each with a penis. As Stalin, Derby announced he would be serving famine for dinner. Even though small at heart, as the General Secretary of the Communist Party, Derby was endowed with a enormous Russian tower.

As Leopold II, and the first rubber baron, Derby would have required very little of the rubber material for his own condom. As Idi Amin, he was grotesque, mean and ugly, but built like a rock star on Viagra. As Khomeini, he may have been an Islamic Revolutionary but judging by the wrinkle in his underpants, he appeared to be a cub scout.

Then Derby's most sinister appearance of all blazed brightly in his eyes when he strut his stuff as Maximilien Robespierre.

"I am prepared to die," proclaimed the mad frenchman, who so proudly flaunted the hump in his tights. And in fact, he was prepared to lose his noggin, because he laid his neck across an imaginary raised platform. The reflection from the guillotine flashed and seemed to be synchronized with the pronouncement that echoed through the hollow of the entire vase, "Off with his head!"

The mysterious commandment had been rendered by the Scontandia, who had finally regained control of the situation. Umpa and Bai Ling were alerted to the danger, and they both gasped as they heard the release of the heavy metal blade.

Would there be enough time for Umpa and Bai Ling to react? Would Derby's throat snap like a cheap cigar? Is there still time for mankind to learn how to live a balanced life on a planet where he is the only species that can doom all others? Will boys learn how to control themselves or will they continue to let the bulge in their britches do their thinking for them?

Stay tuned...