Walt of Ether

By J. A. Parrish

It's the first week of summer vacation and Walt is ready to spend it getting caught up on comics and sleep. Even though his mom has chores and stuff for him to do around the farm, he's looking forward to a nice quiet summer. When Walt finds himself running for his life, an unusual stranger comes to his rescue. Curious about the boy, the stranger decides to trust Walt with a secret which takes Walt on a journey into a world of myth, magic, and adventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. A. Parrish
• Release date: Nov 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9780985313166

J. A. Parrish

J. A. Parrish is a part-time writer, teacher, and CG Artist. Besides creative storytelling, J. A. writes and develops books and educational materials about CG Art and 3D Animation production. A fan of fantasy, science fiction, and classic folklore, J. A. likes to develop stories rooted in reality, with a touch of the fantastic, focusing on characters and the choices they make. While he has mostly focused in longer format storytelling, short stories and children's books may be in the works. iBooks By J. A. Parrish https://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/jeremy-a.-parrish/id507724058?mt=11

Book preview

Chapter One, Infested Interest

Walt braced himself against the wall, brandishing his battle axe in both hands. Arrows arched over the wall above him, seeking to impale and roast his flesh with the flames that they bore. The Horde pressed forward, thirsting for a taste of his blood. Walt fingered the grip of his axe, making sure that the sweat rolling down his arms would not impede his attack, as the Horde drew nearer to where he hid. As they rounded the wall, behind which he'd taken refuge, Walt brought his axe down on the first warrior. Pushing through his first swing, he brought the axe around to catch the next warrior in the chest. The warrior roared and collapsed to the blood stained floor. As he cleaved his way through waves of enraged hordes-men, they cried his name like a curse that shook the earth and made Walt cringe.

Walt! WALT! Are you done cleaning your room?

Walt opened his eyes. He was lying on his bed, with a pile of dirty laundry stacked next to him. Books, cars, planes, and comics formed small mounds all around him and his laundry.

Almost done!

Good. Hurry up, you still have chores to do, said his mom.

Walt slipped off of the bed, being careful not to dislodge his pile of sorted possessions.

One of his piles teetered precariously, but it steadied as soon as his feet began to press into the shaggy green carpet on the floor. It was only the first day of summer break and he already had lots to do. He'd hoped that his mom would have let him relax for a couple of days before the slave labor began, but no such luck. That morning, right after she'd gotten him up at 7 in the morning, she'd started listing his duties for the summer. Number one on the list was his room.

Walter Roy Sidney, what have you been doing in here all Spring? It looks like a tornado has been living in here, shrieked his mom. We've got all summer to do the rest, but this room is first, so get to it. I've got breakfast ready, so eat, then get to work. And don't give me that look. You know that I do this because I love you, she said, smiling.

If you only liked me, would you let me sleep in for a few more hours?

She just shook her head and said, breakfast in ten minutes. Don't forget to wash up before you come down.

After breakfast, Walter went back to his room and began sorting through his accumulated wealth, separating the rank from the less rank. After what felt like days, Walt looked at the clock, squinting. It was almost one in the afternoon.

Walt!? Are you finished cleaning yet? If so, you can help me get started on the garage. Not yet, he replied!

As he spoke, Walt saw something dart across the floor, from his pile of shoes, to his pile of garbage.

Mom? We don't have mice do we?

At first there was no response, but Walt thought that he'd heard something shatter just before hurried footsteps clambered down the hallway towards his room. His mom burst in, with her arms filled with traps and slivers of cheese. Before he could raise a protest to the invasion of his private trove of treasures, she began to shove piles aside, placing and setting traps along the nearest wall and in every corner. Then without a glance in his direction, his mom turned and made her way out, only pausing to say one thing.

Dinner is at six. Now, finish cleaning your room. It may scare away our little visitor if it has no place to hide.

At that, she disappeared down the hallway, leaving the door ajar. Walt squatted down to look at one of the traps. He reached out to take the cheese. Just then, his mom's voice echoed down the hallway.

And don't touch that cheese, she shouted!

Okay...not touching the cheese... said Walt.

About ten boxes and five hours later, Walt's floor and bed were clean for the first time in about a year. As he was every year, Walt was determined to keep it clean for as long as possible, at least until mid-Fall, maybe. Walt stacked most of the boxes at the back wall of his closet, stacking the most important stuff on top and nearest the front, for easy access. The most important boxes, the ones with his comics and authentic imitation wooden battle axe, were placed next to his bed, opposite the nightstand. Despite his initial reluctance, he liked it when his room was clean, but he liked it best when his mom was the one doing it. Regardless, he was pretty pleased with the results and he still had an hour before dinner. So, Walt fingered through his comics and pulled out the latest issue of his favorite comic, flopping into bed to read until dinner.

Axe Blade, Issue# 73...

In the last issue, Brundo had been captured and carried off by Ursula, an ancient Harpy priestess. Walt was about halfway through the first phase of Brundo's escape plan, when he heard a snap. Looking around the room, he noticed an overturned trap leaning against the wall near by. Slowly slipping off of the bed, he inched his way over to the trap. It was one of those huge rat traps, with a heavy steel bar attached to a spring and a wooden base. It had been overturned, so that the side that held cheese and trapped rats leaned up against the wall. Walt nudged it with his toe. It slid up and flopped down onto the floor right side up. It was empty, but not just the trap part. The cheese was gone too.

Snap!

Walt spun around and stumbled backward into the wall. On the other side of the room, he saw another of the traps settling into a similarly overturned state. From where he stood, he could see that it too was empty of mouse, rat, and cheese. Climbing back onto his bed, he stood in the middle and began to scan the room with his eyes. The first trap had been behind his door, the hallway door. The second was under the window opposite the door. There were three more.

Snap!

The trap nearest his closet flew into the air. Walt hadn't been looking right at it, but he thought that he'd seen something. From the corner of his eye, just before the trap flipped into the air, propelled by the force of springing steel, a streak of black and white darted around the corner of his dirty cloths hamper. Bouncing towards the hamper, Walt twisted it away from the wall, but there was nothing there.

Snap!

The trap nearest the nightstand at the head of his bed tumbled away from the wall. A black and white streak shot into the shadows beneath his bed. Walt dove across the bed towards the last trap, on the opposite side of his bed. When he got there, the trap was empty, but something appeared to be holding the trap's trigger catch in place. It was thin, long and black. At first he thought that it might be a piece of string or a bit of twig, but as he drew closer to the nightstand, he could see that it was swinging back and forth, sloping up to meet something next to the nightstand, something alive. Walt rolled up one of his magazines and stepped around to the side of the nightstand, maintaining his distance.

Leaning against the side of the nightstand, one palm pressed flat against the wood and the other balancing the missing cheese in the other, a huge mouse or small rat stood on its hind feet eating. A bit larger than the average mouse, most of its fur was black, except for the palms, a patch around the pelvis, and two stripes that spanned the distance of shoulder to waist on either side of the head. For a second he thought that it was wearing shorts and suspenders. Walt took a step towards the rodent, as it swallowed the last crumb of the cheese. The rodent glanced up at Walt and narrowed its eyes, tilting its head to the side. Walt reached for the rodent. It whirled, dropping to all fours and with a flick of its tail, it sent the trap flying towards Walt's outstretched hand.

Snap!

Walt howled with pain and dropped to his knees, as the steel trap dug into his flesh. As he scrambled to pry it off, he saw the rodent's tail vanish around the corner of the nightstand. A moment later, having heard snapping traps and Walt's cries of pain, his mom rushed into the room, brandishing a broom and dust pan. Seeing the trap clamped down on Walt's reddening digits, Walt's mom pried and bandaged his bruised fingers, while Walt recited the tale of his encounter with the strange rodent. Despite his insistence to the contrary, Walt's mom found it difficult to believe that a large mouse had tripped all of the traps and eaten the cheese. Aside from the fact that the cheese was gone and the fact that Walt had needed her help to remove one of the traps from his hand, there really wasn't any other conclusion to which she could come. Even if she'd believed his story about a super intelligent mouse, with shorts and suspender patterned fur, the evidence of his conspiratorial guilt was overwhelming. After all, what kind of mouse could disarm a rat trap with the flick of its tail, without losing it? Once was already a stretch of the imagination, but five times. Even Walt didn't buy it. And he had witnessed it for himself. So, in the end, Walt told his mom something that she could accept.

Okay... Okay... I accidentally got stuck while I was cleaning. My hand hurt so much that I kicked over the others. Sorry, but it was stupid and those traps really hurt. Now I kind of feel sorry for rats and mice, said Walt.

His mom gave him a half smile, arching the right side of her mouth.

Well, I'm sorry that you got hurt. It probably wasn't the best idea to lay those traps out in the open like that anyway. I should've been more careful too.

She hugged him and kissed his freshly bandaged hand.

No more cleaning today. Dinner time! We've got vanilla cherry chuck ice-cream for dessert. Feel free to eat with your sore hand, she said.

Very funny. Don't get upset if I take you up on that offer.

Hey, it's your ice-cream, just don't get any of it on the floor, she replied; smiling.

Chapter Two, Sleep Walking

After dinner, Walt felt a little better. His mom and the ice-cream seemed to have tamed the bruising, which had taken root in his hand and had inevitably spread to his ego. Despite everything which had happened, Walt couldn't truly grasp how it had happened. Had it really happened the way that he'd remembered it or had he hit his head? He couldn't decide, but anything made more sense than what he'd thought that he'd seen. For the rest of the evening, Walt avoided going back to his room. When his mom suggested that he go lay down, he offered to help with the dishes. Once that was done, he'd offered to fix the loose bolts on the porch-swing.