A Summer In The Vortex

By Joseph Harles

In a world where life's lessons are laid down on paper and passed on through generations, comes the ridiculous adventure of Nox and Karid that will leave you wondering about the author... who does that? And why would this get passed down as a useful allegory?

Karid is your average ungrateful self absorbed 19-year old who still demands birthday parties. When his uncle ponies up a grand total of three dollars on his present, a Wiffle Ball set, Karid scoffs at the cheapness of the gift. But hey, it beats the velour sweatsuits he regularly gets from his grandmother.

His best friend Nox suggests they go outside and play a game and when they do, a vortex opens up sending them into an outlandish world where these lazy narcissists play the protagonist role they've only experienced with a PS3 controller in their hands.

Often hilarious, occasionally enlightening, and never didactic (use Google to look that word up), you'll keep turning the pages to see why the food in a Cup-O-Noodles wants them to pay for murder, why mice are freebasing cheese in an attempt to escape Earth, and why an albino king want to skin our heroes alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joseph Harles
• Release date: Mar 30, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310110672

Book preview

A Summer In The Vortex

Joseph Harles

Published by Joseph Harles at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 Joseph Harles

Table of Contents

And So It Begins

The Living Cemetery

In Search of a Food Sponsor

Moma Comes Alive

Pimp My Canoe

Coal Miner’s Leftovers

The Way the Ball Bounces

The Root of All Causes

So It Comes To an End

And So It Begins

Mom! Dammit, when can I open my presents? asked Karid smack dab in the middle of his 19th birthday party.

Just be patient dear. Haste makes waste, replied his mother as she walked in the room with his cake.

Waste? Waste what? What are you talking about? That makes no sense. There’s nothing to waste. Karid leaned over to his good friend and in all reality, his only friend, Nox. Dude, I think my mom’s having some sort of sixties flashback.

Yeah, one too many of her ‘Scooby Snacks, replied Nox as he let out an overzealous laugh. He was proud of himself for his great wit even if he was the only person who shared that opinion.

Scooby Snacks? I can’t even believe how irrelevant that comment was. I mean seriously? You’re busting out Scooby Doo smack talk that nobody here can relate to? I lobbed you a freakin’ softball with my sixties comment, dude. You could have made reference to any number of things. Hell, ‘burn the bra’ would have been better. At least it would have woken up the rest of my family here. The rest of Karid’s family was barely paying attention to his ramblings as they had become numb to his selfish ways over the years.

Well, just for that, I’m taking my present back. I wanted it for myself anyway. Nox picked up his present, but was stopped by Karid before he could make his getaway.

Dude, just kidding. Don’t go, or more so, don’t take my present with you if you do. Nox sat back down, knowing Karid was just being a jerk to begin with.

The rest of Karid’s family showed up at the door a few moments later and Karid got his wish of opening his presents. He had been looking forward to his 19th birthday for some time now. He wasn’t quite sure why though because 19 was pretty worthless. He couldn’t drink or anything, all he had to look forward to were the great gifts that would be bestowed upon him. Stuff was important to him so long as he didn’t have to get all sentimental about it.

Karid greeted them with fake enthusiasm. The look in his eye showed his greed. He didn’t even look his relatives in the eyes; his focus was on the packages in their arms. Nox, who wasn’t a fan of Karid’s family to begin with, stood in the corner by himself and picked a scab off his knee.

Opening the present from Aunt Camille, Karid began the festivities. His bubble burst quickly though and he responded with the fine tuned sarcasm of a teenager. Hey cool, what I always wanted, a Flowbee. Who do I look like, Pete Rose? Christ. Give me the next one.

He looked around for the gift from his grandmother. Recently she had given him the best gifts, mainly fifty dollar checks. This came about when he finally confronted her about the velour shirts she had given him up until his freshman year in high school. The shirts wouldn’t have been a problem if his mother didn’t make him wear them whenever she came to visit – even during those hot summer days. He took care of the problem by sewing them into underwear. He found it amusing when his grandmother would ask him about his newest outfit she bought for him and he would reply by promptly dropping his pants. His grandmother got the point and stopped buying those shirts. Velour has a tender feel down in the groin area, so on some level he misses those days.

He looked at the package and saw that it couldn’t be a check, but he opened it anyway. To his surprise, it was a box of Playtex tampons. What the? What, you forget your medication again grandma?

What, you don’t like these? They’re slim. You wear slim don’t you? The young man at the store said these were the best in the market. Try ‘em out. Karid’s grandma was obviously confused. At this stage in her life, she was happy to go a day without soiling herself. So in a sense, Karid knew this day was coming.

Thank your grandmother Karid. She went through all the trouble to get you these, said his mother.

No.

Karid!

Where am I supposed to stick them?

Then Nox came up with a proposition. Diarrhea won’t be a problem anymore. Just stick these babies up there and you won’t even have to sit on the toilet.

Karid started laughing and no longer was upset about the gift that he had originally deemed bogus. He looked around for Uncle Eddie’s present. Over on the table he saw a long tube wrapped in plain brown wrapping paper. He picked it up like a child picking up a crayon for the first time, realizing that the whole world of creativity is open to him. Anything that can be imagined can be created with that magical pen. Looking at the tube, he was curious. Curious like a puppy dog running through the fields unaware of all the wonders that await it on this beautiful spring morning. Spring brings out great hope, nothing can go wrong for a young pup on such a fine day, how could nature let anything happen to him. After all, nature created the pup, just as nature created the heavens. The heavens represent all that mankind has ever… Wait a minute, who wrote that crap? This doesn’t belong in this story. Anyway…

Karid ripped the wrapping from the tube. A Wiffle Ball bat. Crap Eddie, what’d you spend on me this year? A buck fifty?

Ah, Karid, don’t be so hasty to make judgment. This is a special bat. When you and Box play…

Nox, said the man himself.

Nox? What the hell kind of name is that? What are you? Some sort of Timothy Leary disciple or something? Anyway, think of it like a live action video game. Play with this and your day will be filled with adventures you’d never dreamed of.

Like romping through sticker bushes chasing the ball? said Karid, not quite buying his uncle’s story.

Trust me.

The Living Cemetery

The party quickly wound down and degenerated itself into the adults carrying on adult like conversations that neither Nox nor Karid could comprehend so Nox suggested they give this game of Wiffle Ball a try. Their efforts were sure to be in vain because neither of them were athletes in any sense of the word. They’d spent most of their lives watching MTV and surfing the net looking for funny Youtube videos. Their attention span was dominated by the concept of the three minute video or sixty second clip on Youtube. This game might just give them a chance to escape their TV oriented society. Not entirely. Karid set his TV on the window sill in case something good came on that they couldn’t miss.

Setting up shop in the driveway, their game was abysmal to begin with. Nox couldn’t figure out the instructions on the Wiffle Ball box. Every time he’d make an attempt to throw one of the pitches on the box, the ball would sail over Karid’s head and hit the rain gutter above Karid’s garage door.

Dude, quit throwing that curve shit! My back’s getting sore from picking up the ball.

All right. I’ll throw my fastball right by you like Richard Clemens.

Dude, it’s Robert not Richard. But you wouldn’t know that would you? If you’re gonna talk shit, at least know what your shit is, said Karid.

Yeah whatever. I’ll throw it by your knappy white ass, responded Nox.

What are you talking about? You’re white too. My knappy white ass. You’ll be brushing your teeth with that ball when I get done with it. Nox took issue with Karid’s comments and got ready to unload his best pitch.

Three bounces.

Ooh, that’s good. Real good. Now we can go fishing with those worms you just killed. Just lob it in here. Nox did just that; he lobbed one into what should have been Karid’s wheelhouse and Karid took a mammoth swing. That piece of plastic sportsmanship went flying farther than anything they’d seen before.

Dude, I can’t believe you threw the bat, said Nox as he looked towards the bushes that had been designated as the left field fence.

It slipped. Help me get it.

The two of them went trouncing through the bushes like a couple of jungle explorers in hopes of finding the bat. Can’t be too hard to find. Bat’s yellow, bushes are green, said Karid.

Nox, who was looking far from where the bat should have landed in order to avoid any real responsibility of success, made a startling discovery.

Yo man Karid, check this out. Parachutes! Sure enough, someone had carelessly left two unused totally safe parachutes lying in the bushes for anyone to use.

Cool. Let me see, replied Karid, selfishly grabbing one of the parachutes out of Nox’s hands. They examined the artifacts from quite possibly, at least in their own minds, Vietnam.

What do you suppose we do with them? Report them to the lost and found? asked Nox.

Nox, the lost and found here is my old toy closet. Let’s take them for ourselves and go jump off Cracked Skull Bridge.

Wait, isn’t that bridge just fifty feet high or so? asked Nox as he continued to examine his chute.

Yeah, so? What’s your point?

I guess it’s high enough, but shouldn’t we google skydiving or something and find out if that’s enough room for us? asked Nox.

Dude, I watched a guy base jump off a bridge before. We’ll be fine. Let’s bail.

Nox didn’t have a counter to Karid’s logic. After all, Karid did watch a lot of extreme sports on T.V.. So with this newfound purpose in life, our heroes ran to their fated bridge.

Fifteen minutes later Nox and Karid were standing on the edge of the bridge looking down at the rocks fifty feet below, contemplating their lives and whether the jump was worth their effort. The lack of rain over the spring meant that what was once a rushing river, was now just a creek with too many exposed rocks. Many nature photographers had spent hours waiting for the perfect lighting to capture the glory of this creek, but that was of no interest to Nox and Karid. The only nature photos these two ever looked online for were included in searches such as hot women in the middle of nature and hot chick au natural.

Nox, staring into the eyes of his fate felt inclined to break the tension. You know, some women eat their placentas after birth. Do you suppose they cook them first? This sort of muse was common to Nox. Karid however would counter Nox’s statement with one of his own, albeit not quite as eloquent.

Have you ever been locked in a dark closet with the music of Englebert Humperdink blaring loudly and some fat sweaty hair infested chick crawling all over you? Karid’s statement coming out of left field caught Nox by surprise and he laughed hysterically, obviously upsetting Karid. Nox, don’t laugh, it really hurts.

Nox was still laughing and now he had tears in his eyes. He wiped his eyes, sighed to calm himself down and had a moment of clarity. Let’s go. This jump doesn’t seem prudent at this juncture. Karid was man enough at this moment in his life to admit that he too was freaked out by the jagged rocks below. They took off their parachutes and left them on the ground for someone else to use. Occasionally they would leave their stuff behind if any memory of the object in question would bring back negative memories. Their theory was that their possessions would just remind them of their pasts. The genesis of this theory was brought about when Karid saw a cow in a pasture. This led him to recall a time when his big brother hung him up on a hook in the barn and walked out. This particular memory, too, was painful.

They headed back on the trail that led them to the bridge in the first place. Most people would have enjoyed the cedar and white ash trees and beautiful undergrowth of their nature walk, but all Nox and Karid could think about were the shows on TV that they were missing. Bored with the scenery around him and wanting to find a way to pass the time, Nox began walking with his eyes closed to experience sensory deprivation. He felt he could broaden his mind and soul and thus become more empathic to blind people.

Off in the bushes they heard a voice wail and scream in pain, so they rightfully ran in that general direction hoping to experience this person’s feelings and see what could cause such anguish. Such caring chaps aren’t they? In all reality they wanted to see the gory sight that was sure to greet them. However, they didn’t see the pit covered with leaves.

They fell in.

After taking a moment to finally catch his breath and take a mental inventory of any bone damage or pain he experienced, Karid spoke. See, this is comparable to the fat lady. You’re not laughing now are you? Karid soaked in the experience of being trapped and just sat there looking at the walls of their pit. He half expected to see chipped off pieces of fingernails and the scratch marks of previous victims, similar to what he saw in the horror movies he enjoyed watching..

Dammit, it’s pitch black in here, said Nox breaking the silence as he flailed his arms in panic.

Open your eyes you choad monkey! Nox did and was relieved to see a shovel leaning against one of the walls of the pit. Obviously Karid was so deep in his despair that he hadn’t bothered to look completely around the pit, or he would have seen it first. This young man was easily broken, and was more content to look for the signs of the macabre and eventually, their demise.

Karid rallied upon seeing the shovel and came up with a revelation. Dude, we’re sitting in a pit and half the work is already done, so there’s only one thing to do. Nox picked up on Karid’s idea and piped in on the plan, Let’s dig for some treasure. There’s got to be some down there, otherwise, why would there be a hole here in the first place?

So they began. It was lost on them that the hole was only six feet deep and easily escapable. They were driven by pure greed right now, blinded to the fact that there was no legitimate reason to believe that there might be any gold down below. For all they knew, the pit could have been the digging of the power company union workers installing some new lines, who were enjoying their union mandated halfway to completion two week vacation.

Nox, being the more optimistic and naive of the two, was certainly more motivated than Karid and shoveled as if he had Red Bull mainlined into his veins. His shoveling led them to a metal door about ten feet down. They mistook the clang of metal for a treasure chest and felt validated by their quest. The pure greed and discovery of the treasure got to Nox, drool was seeping out of the corner of his mouth. Karid, who was well rested after watching his best friend do all the work, imagined that they had discovered the entry to a tomb like he had seen on the Discovery Channel. He only paid half attention to those specials, otherwise he would have realized that ancient treasures don’t come fully equipped with metal doors with brass knobs. Regardless, after all the dirt was cleared, he opened it up with the comfort that he would his own home. Expecting a dark and musty room with no activity, they were surprised at what awaited them.

The brightness of the chamber surprised them. Fully expecting a stone room full of spider webs and dank smelling wood, the last thing they expected was a modern brightly lit room with people milling about. It took a moment for the shock to wear off before they noticed from their vantage point of the ceiling that these weren’t just ordinary people wandering around, but instead a collection of famous people who had previously died. Or at least the boys thought everyone here was dead. Pop culture figures they knew about, but historically relevant individuals weren’t their forte.

Peering their head towards one of the corners, they could see Charlie Chaplin and Abe Lincoln in a heated debate about whether or not Abe did the right thing with the Emancipation Proclamation. It was becoming clear to Nox that Chaplin shared more in common than Adolf Hitler, who coincidentally was off in the corner cheering on Chaplin, than just a funny little mustache. Karid pumped his fist when Charlie made a salient point that took Abe by surprise.

Realizing that the conversation was getting to esoteric for his take, Karid looked around to see that, against the far wall, a game of dominoes was being played by Tupac Shakir and Kurt Cobain. Tupac was getting all fired up as evidently Cobain lulled him to distraction with his musing about how depressing and constricting fame was and was soundly beating Tupac at his own game. Fuck you, man. At least I wasn’t tapping that knappy hole, Courtney Love.

Kurt cooly replied, Why do you think her band’s name was ‘Hole’? But before Tupac could register the thought, he had flipped the board and stormed off. Karid tried to suppress his laughter until Tupac was out of sight. He didn’t want his ass kicked for dissing Tupac.

After watching for a while it registered to Nox that this was indeed a tomb, but this particular tomb came attached with the ghosts of its occupants. Looking around at the chamber Nox noticed that there weren’t any markings of any sort on the walls but off to their left was a sign: Receptionist. He nudged Karid and suggested that they hop down from the ceiling and check things out. Nox hit the floor and was in the room heading straight for the reception area. He figured that the ghosts probably wouldn’t be in the mood to talk to them and that receptionists were paid to talk to strangers, so he made his way over to the desk. As he approached the receptionist’s desk, he call to his buddy to join him. Karid promptly jumped down thinking the exact opposite of his buddy. He was going to make friends with some celebrities.

Standing behind the counter they were met by an alien being that to the best of their knowledge hadn’t starred in any Hollywood movies, so they couldn’t quite figure out what it was doing here. It had no head, was a sturdy three feet tall and was covered with an amber gel-like substance. The tip of its body barely reached above the desk. At first they thought it was doing a ventriloquist trick because the voice seemed to be coming from behind it. Then they realized that it must have been speaking out of what they figured to be its ass. Who would you like to have sex with?

Karid, being into this kind of thing replied and not missing a beat nor concerned that an alien was talking out of its ass and offering them a sweet hook up, Who have you got? He wasn’t bogged down by the logical thought process that encumbered Nox. While Karid was jumping in with both feet, Nox was trapped with the thought that the alien’s offer would probably be with another alien so grotesque that no other aliens were willing to have sex with it, therefore, trying to persuade these innocent young men to be their next victims.

Why? Does it matter? Sex is sex. Anyone’s doable when the lights are out. No reply from Karid he just stood there looking at the alien. Obviously to him, it did matter. The alien correctly interpreted Karid’s blank stare and pressed the matter. Ok, if you have to know, we have people who have reached a certain stature of celebrity either historical, or through pop culture. The offering of sex to commoners is one of the provisions they must abide by in order to spend eternity amongst themselves instead of heaven or hell with the likes of you. When they learned the location of this place, they played their odds that nobody would actually find the entry door. Which apparently you two have done. So I ask again, who would you like to have sex with?

Karid hadn’t processed the logistics of sex with apparitions yet, but still pressed forward. Ok. Question. Are they the age that they died or when they looked good? Cause I ain’t bonin’ some old decrepit bitch.

Your choice. He or she can…

What’s this he shit? What do I look like to you? Do I look Metro? Am I wearing a shirt that says ‘I’m so gay I shit rainbows?’ Give me Marilyn.

Mr. Manson isn’t dead yet.

Again, what do I look like? You’re not seeing this outfit I’m wearing on ‘Queer Eye’. Marilyn Monroe. Turning to Nox he said, I’m going to be the envy of every GI’s wet dream. He high-fived an uninspired Nox. I hope she’s on the pill or something.

The alien receptionist ignored all of Karid’s disrespectful throw away comments and typed some notes into the computer and hit the submit button. Without saying a word, it turned to Nox, expecting the same sort of juvenile behavior.

Nox was left to make his choice, but he wasn’t as enthused about the prospect facing him. He still couldn’t understand why they were being offered the chance to have sex with famous dead people and wanted to pursue this line of questioning but didn’t feel that the alien would have engaged such a conversation beyond what it had already explained. Instead he racked his brain trying to come up with someone. Uh, is Lassie available?

The alien who actually had a name and a life history despite Nox and Karid’s lack of caring about such details. Hjaqbh (hack-buh) typed Nox’s request into the computer. Karid stood dumbfounded looking at Nox.

What? I don’t have a dog. I’ve never had a furry friend to romp through the fields with, to greet me when I come home from a bad day, or to cuddle up with me in bed.

Nox, get a grip. Just pick some hottie and hit that shit.

Nox conceded, thought about it for another moment and chose Uhura from Star Trek. I choked, I’m sorry. She always wore those tight skirts and looked like she wanted to get all up in Kirk’s shit. She’s all I could think of. Hjaqbh didn’t respond to the boys’ mindless banter and instead continued to type notes into the computer. The amount of typing it was doing was disconcerting to Nox as Uhura shouldn’t have taken long to type. What was the alien up to?

Follow the yellow line please, said Hjaqbh. They looked around and couldn’t find one.

What yellow line? asked Nox as he continued to look for the phantom yellow line. By all accounts, it should have been on the floor heading down the hallway, but it just wasn’t there.

Hjaqbh picked up the phone and was speaking in its native language. Nox and Karid forgot about the missing yellow line for a moment and marveled at the alien’s language skills. It hung up the phone and spoke to them with disdain, I’m sorry gentlemen, but you didn’t tell me you weren’t dead yet. Otherwise the line would be as plain as day. Follow me please.

It led them down a hall on the right leaving a trail of slime with every step it took. All the doors in the hall were open so Nox and Karid strolled a few paces behind feeling the need to look in each one. They were disappointed because they were all empty except one that caused them to stop dead in their tracks. The room contained three Munchkins from the Wizard of Oz without any mouths playing Connect Four with a couple armless Oompa Loompas from Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory.

What the? asked Karid

Knowing exactly what Karid was referring to, Hjaqbh got on its soapbox and lectured him. Never speak of Mr. Sinatra in an ill manner or you’ll be playing with them too. Mr. Sinatra has a bit of a God complex, and with his powers, rightfully so. A tad immature, but that’s someone else’s battle. Hjaqbh continued along the dotted line and expected the boys to be on his tail has he requested.

Nox, please go into this room. Nox saw the room Hjaqbh referred to and hesitantly entered. He looked back into the hallway longingly for the support of his best friend, but all Karid did was flash him a thumbs up in support of the pending hookup with Uhura. With no other choice but to embrace what was coming, Nox looked around and saw only two things in his new room: a wood chair placed exactly in the center and an Andy Warhol painting of a soup can hanging on a side wall. Hjaqbh barked out instructions to the scared little virgin, Sit in the chair. Look up at all times and whatever you do, don’t look down. Nox went directly to the chair apprehensive as to what would happen next. Karid was being led down the hall to his destiny, leaving Nox truly alone.

Nox’s neck was getting stiff so he decided that since the alien couldn’t see him, it would be safe to move his head down for a moment and work out the kinks in his neck. That was a mistake. When he did this, and blatantly disregarded the rules, the soup can in the painting took on a three dimensional existence and exploded. This sent a glob of slimy Vietnam era soup all over him. The explosion wasn’t random, it was targeted. One hundred percent of the goo landed on Nox and his rickety wood chair. The stench was so nasty that all Nox could associate it with was one of Karid’s nasty Taco Bell burrito farts. He couldn’t handle the smell any longer and fainted. Apparently his fight or flight instinct only had one gear.

Meanwhile, Karid had been placed in his own room of pleasure and not knowing what had happened to his best friend, Karid was mentally psyching himself up for nirvana.

Lie down on the bed. She’ll be right in, said Hjaqbh turning back into the hall to leave him behind.

Right after Hjaqbh deposited Karid in the room, three large Mafioso types approached the alien. It appears as though you have a problem with Mr. Sinatra?

Hjaqbh had a stunned look on its face and couldn’t muster a response. Thoughts of anything it might have said rolled through its head. Anus? Not sure where this thing’s brain is.

Immature? Is that what you think of Mister Sinatra? It looks like you’ve got some Connect For playing ahead of you. Maybe some Candyland might be better suited for someone playing the ‘immature’ card.

Karid was too busy exploring his surroundings to realize what was happening out in the hall. He didn’t hear the begging nor did he hear the sounds of Hjaqbh’s body being modified to have a pacifier permanently inserted into it’s ass/mouth for an eternity of Candyland gaming. Looking around, Karid saw that beside the bed were a sawhorse and a wall-sized picture of Andy Warhol. He couldn’t quite figure out why a sawhorse was in his love den so he shifted his focus on the painting. Fascinated with that picture, he explored every contour of Andy’s face.

Get up you little shit! Marilyn made her big entrance. Karid wasn’t expecting such voracity from her, but was happy to oblige. With loud clicking of her heels she stormed over to him, yanked him off the bed with all her strength and gave him a deep kiss. It started out passionately, but then her tongue starting digging deeper and deeper. It was happening so fast and so ferociously that Karid couldn’t process what was happening to him. Soon he couldn’t breathe because the tongue was sliding down his throat. He couldn’t figure out why his gag reflex didn’t take effect. She withdrew her instrument of oral rape and threw him to the bed and started taking off her clothes. Karid’s mental faculties were starting to return. The fear he felt a moment ago was replaced by nineteen year old hormones and his heart fluttered with excitement. As she pulled her underwear down she revealed a massive twelve inch penis in all its glory.

He let out a horrified scream that could be heard throughout the entire building and decided that his rendezvous with that Monroe thing was too disgusting to consummate. He immediately blamed Hackbuh. After all, it kept thinking he was gay. He took advantage of the fact that Monroe wasn’t straddling him or holding him down at the moment and bolted out the door.

His first thought was to find Nox. He remembered where Nox had been dropped off and ran straight into the room. Karid’s system shock wasn’t getting any relief upon seeing what Nox was doing on the floor. Nox had awaken from his fainting spell and had a change of heart about the decrepit soup and was on his hands and knees slurping up the vile stuff. Needless to say, he was bloating from eating the contents of a three foot high can of soup. Karid couldn’t quite tell how much his friend had already consumed, nor did he really care to find out.

Dude, Karid. Taste this. It’s like flat Coke with chicken lumps in it. Tasty! said Nox as he licked some of the soup off his arms. Nox was so intoxicated by the flavor of the soup