The Sensing

By Gary Kuyper

Some people can live their whole lives without knowing that they possess THE SENSING.

“Da Sensin’ stir some mighty powerful emotions in m’. When ah return home dat evenin’, after puttin’ da last handful o’ soil on top o’ Lukas, ah was knowin’ zactly what ta be doin’.” Nan stared at me. One might almost have considered the smile on her face to be somewhat...wicked.

Nancy Mangrove had a special ability possessed by very few, but it had taken the pain of death to reveal the true potential of that power.

Gary Kuyper portrays a vivid image of life (and death) in late fifties Louisiana.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gary Kuyper
• Release date: Feb 13, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458066275

Gary Kuyper

Gary Kuyper began his professional literary career writing self-help and general interest articles for Daan Retief Publishers who produced a monthly book for their woman’s club called Woman’s Forum. These articles would sometimes require research and had titles as diverse as The Human Brain and Body Painting!Being a professional photographer on a part-time basis Gary has also managed to have his articles on photography (With accompanying photographs) published in books and magazines. He has also done some free-lance photography and photojournalism projects for numerous local newspapers.Over the past four years he has constantly managed to be one of the top finalists in the Nova Short Story Competition (A competition for budding writers of science fiction and/or fantasy).Last year (2009) Gary had the pleasure of seeing The Devil's Little Tadpoles grace the pages of the local SF & Fantasy Fanzine Probe.He is an avid film buff and amateur film maker. A few years ago I managed to take first prize in the SA Ten Best Film Makers Competition with a short film entitled The Crimson Cobra - An action-packed martial arts / superhero movie using some of the very talented local artists.He is a qualified prosthetics make-up artist and has used this talent on both amateur and professional productions. He has also appeared on television in a youth program especially made for enlightening people in the art of special effects make-up.Gary has a rather excellent general knowledge being not only an avid writer but reader of any material that is able to stimulate him cerebrally.He taught himself Adobe Photoshop and has become adapt and proficient enough at utilizing the software to such a degree that he has managed to sell a number of creations to various institutes and organizations. He is particularly fond of a logo designed for the Krazy Mug Coffee Shop and several covers that have graced the front of Probe.Gary has a vast knowledge of music and has appeared on the local Television Music Quiz Show Note for Note where he was able to win a substantial amount of prize money.In 2008 he entered the SF / Fantasy Mini Radio Play Competition and took first prize with his The Adventures of Captain Max Power of the Intergalactic Police - an obvious homage to the early Flash Gordon radio series’. A number of skilled professionals are now planning to produce Max to CD and have it aired on a local radio station (SAfm).All his literary and photojournalistic accomplishments have been done on a part-time basis due to the fact that his full time career is lecturing mathematics as well as engineering science at a Technical College. Although this is a most fulfilling profession, it has long been Gary's ideal to become a full-time writer – especially of fantasy, science fiction and horror novels.He has recently published his first full-length fantasy novel - The Chronicles of Baltrath: The DARK WIZARDS.As a considerable amount of time and effort has been expended in building the world of Baltrath, Gary has begun work on a sequel to The Dark Wizards.

Book preview

THE SENSING

a.k.a.

Teddy Scare

A SUPERNATURAL THRILLER FROM THE DEEP SOUTH

By

Gary Kuyper

This is a first edition

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author

Copyright © Gary van Nikkelen Kuyper 2011

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental

Smashwords Edition

This book is available in print at amazon.com

ISBN 1 46092 763 X

DEDICATION

For my very good friend, Thuli Senona.

THE SENSING

It was way back in fifty eight when I first met Nancy ‘Ol’ Nan’ Mangrove.

My father had been transferred from Fort Knox, Kentucky to the military base at Houma, Louisiana.

It was only natural that the locals would give the new kid on the block a hard time, a sort of initiation test to see if I was worthy of joining their gang.

But after my dad’s really stupid and unthinkable act, he had made it quite impossible.

He had grabbed Zommie out of the back window of the fifty two Chevy and tossed him at me.

"Don’t you think you’re a little old to still be playing with this? You’ll be turning nine next fall."

Thanks a lot, Dad! I exclaimed sarcastically as I turned to face the jeers and snide remarks from the small crowd that sat upon the curb. They had gathered, not too unlike flies upon a steaming turd, to watch the new neighbors moving into the old two-story wooden building.

Hoo hooo! shouted one placing a thumb in his mouth. Big guy still sleeps with his teddy!

Bet he still pees his bed at night! laughed another slapping his knee.

"Thanks a lot, Dad! I repeated walking past him into the building. Just like you promised, Houma is gonna be a great place for me to grow up. Especially now. I sure hope your next transfer is real soon."

That was a pretty nasty thing to do, Rick! chided my mother.

I had listened to the rest of the conversation from my second story bedroom window.

The boy needs to toughen up, Allie. Hell, at his age I was out huntin’ raccoon; not reading all that science mixin’ junk they printin’ these days.

"Science fiction! It’s good for a developing mind. Stimulates the imagination."

Boy needs to get his feet on the ground and keep ‘em there.

I’m pretty sure you must have imagined yourself a real Davy Crockett when you were out hunting.

I guess so, said dad smiling proudly.

"Well, that was your way of imagining things. Not much difference from what you begrudge Theodore."

At least Davy Crockett was a real person, not some hokey space ranger from a Saturday matinee. And look at all those pictures he hangs on his wall. Even you say that they give you the heebie jeebies.

That makes no difference. The fact remains that a fertile imagination is a good thing. If you try to suppress the mind instead of stimulating it you’ll end up with a zombie for a son. I guess that should make you real happy.

Why on earth would you say a thing like that?

Because, then at least he’ll make good military material. Obeying everything without question. Just the sort the army likes using for cannon fodder.

If that’s the way you feel about the army, how come you married me in the first place?

Mom always knew the right things to say when my dad was irritated.

Because you looked so dashing and handsome in your uniform, she had clutched onto his arm tightly. And still do.

They had kissed and laughed.

Maybe I’d better see if I can cheer Buck Rogers up? said my dad. A minute later he was in my room handing me some loose change. I think I saw a soda shop down on the corner. Go get yourself a malt.

I was busy scanning the magazine rack at the front of the shop when Jake Dreskil walked in. He must have been at least two years my senior. I tensed as he approached.

You’re the new guy? The one who’s dad bought the old Monroe mansion?

Mansion? More like a shipwreck!

Ha! We just all call it that ‘cause it’s so old. My ma says its got style. Built by some French fella who later moved to New Orleans.

I suppose you gonna tell me it’s haunted or something?

Nah, but it is kinda creepy looking. I think it’s neat.

We only renting it. My dad never stays too long in one place. His job is forever moving him around. You like scary things?

Yep, I see you do to. He pointed at the magazine in my hand.

I’m Theodore Stone.

Jake! Jake Dreskil. My dad owns the bait shop on Fifth and Main.

Mine’s a lieutenant in the army.

Jim Preston’s dad is also stationed at the base. He’s a Staff Sergeant or something.

Lucky guy, at least he doesn’t have to salute his dad when he comes home.

Ha! You got comic books?

A few.

Wanna swap? We usually do that on Saturdays at the Bijou before the show, but I was hoping to get a look at your place from inside.

We’re still moving in, but make a turn tomorrow afternoon. I’ll make sure I got the comic books unpacked by then.

Swell!

Ted! You’ve got a visitor! shouted my mom from the front porch.

Come on up, Jake! I shouted.

We spent the rest of the afternoon swapping comics and chatting about horror movies. We had had a long heated debate as to whether Lugosi or Karloff was the better actor.

After returning from the bathroom, I found Jake and Zommie missing.

Dad, of course, was happy. You should be pleased knowing that your friends also still want to play with dolls. Just let it be.

I was devastated. Zommie was no ordinary teddy bear. He possessed an essence that is common to many toys - nostalgic value.

Mom had bought him for me when I was a tender five. Zommie and I had put four great and important years behind us. We had comforted each other thru many dark nights and clung to each other when that darkness was shattered by the flashing and crash of terrible thunder storms. We had confided in each other our darkest secrets. Everything that I knew, Zommie knew, and visa versa. Even when mom was unable to understand me, Zommie did. He was more than some comfort blanket, he was my best friend. Hell, he was my only friend. When your father is constantly being transferred around the country, it becomes difficult to make and keep friends. Apart from my folks, Zommie had been the only constant in my life.

So, even though he was worn from the caresses and hugs of love, he had always appeared mighty grand to me.

Sure, he no longer shared my bed. To please my dad I had moved him from my pillow and given him a special place seated on the top of my toy chest. Somehow I just could not bring myself to place him inside with the rest of the collection, and I still had the odd habit of speaking to him.

Mom told me that she knew a boy who had gotten so into the habit of stepping over the cracks in the sidewalk, that he continued to do it when he was a man of forty.

Step on a crack, break your mother’s back, he told her - and meant it.

I guess that sometimes a habit is hard to break. Still, it should have been my decision to quit; not made by some thief who pretended to be my friend.

I saw Jake a couple of times on the street, but he was quick to avoid me. School was starting in a couple of weeks. Needless to say, I was not looking forward to it, but it would give me the opportunity to confront him.

It was, instead, Jake and his big pal Jim Preston that confronted me. I recognized him as one of the loud-mouthed gang that had gathered on the curb the day we had arrived in Houma.

Jim was literally big. He was not too bright. He had failed seventh grade and been forced to pass all his old mates on their way to high school in the morning. It must have been a constant irritation and embarrassment to him. To this end he had decided to relieve his frustration on the new kid in town.

Much to Jakes pleasure, on the very first day of school, Jim bloodied my nose.

The second day showed no improvement when Jim swiped my milk money.

The third day was the worst. The bell had rung announcing the end of the school day and I was heading down the long corridor to the lockers to collect my stuff. I noticed a crowd around the cabinet that had been allocated to me.

The gathering was the result of what Jake and Jim had placed on the steel door.

It was Zommie. They had hung him by his neck using a length of wire.

Look everyone! shouted Jim. Here comes the bed-wetter now!

Have you been able to sleep properly since I took your teddy bear! pouted Jake sarcastically. "Does your momma still have to leave the light on till you fall