Assortment 5: Assortment, #5

By D. Reed Whittaker

This is the fifth collection of short stories. As with the other four, there is no theme, no shared genre, no fixed format. Most come from contest submittals. The nice thing about these contests is it gives the writer a chance to venture out of his/her comfort zone. Sometimes, you'll be asked to write all dialogue with no descriptions. Other times, it will be only dialogue without tag lines or beats (who said what, and what were they doing when they said it).

The stories can be short (less than 300 words) or long (up to 5000 words).

 

They can have any theme or prompt – a poem, song lyric, a picture, a comic book cover, anything. The goal is to develop as many writing skills as possible. You never know when you'll need a new approach.

 

I hope you like these. If you don't, please let me know what I can do to make the story better.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Intercede LLC
• Release date: Dec 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393511250

D. Reed Whittaker

Retired engineer creating worlds I'd like to live in and people I'd like to know. It's been fun meeting/creating MarieAnne, Steve, Bill, Maggie, Sylvia, Smitty, Linda, Billy, Suzy, Ken, Molly, Dad, John Henry, Melody, Sally, and George. I think you'll like meeting them, too. 

Book preview

Halloween

The cover is the prompt, which I can’t show. It is a collection of screaming skulls rising from what appears to be flames. It is the September (unknown date but somewhere in the 30s) issue of Weird Tales. The featured article is H. P. Lovecraft’s Halloween is a Suburb.

How many this year? asked the Sergeant.

About what we lost last year and the year before, said the Lieutenant

Can’t we do anything?

I’m open to suggestions. It’s happened every year I’ve been here and a long time before that.

Can’t we keep the kids home?

The lieutenant shook his head. Doesn’t seem to make any difference. We’ve tried it several different ways – put them all in a church, a school. Hell, one time we put them in here - in jail. It didn’t make any difference.

There’s got to be something we can do.

We’ll try anything. You got an idea, we’ll try it.

What if we took them out of town, moved them somewhere, somewhere safe?

We put them all on buses and drove for two hours, come midnight, ten were gone. Just disappeared - there one minute, gone the next.

Why?

You ask the old folks; they say it’s a curse – an old Indian curse.

You believe that?

The Lieutenant shrugged. Makes as much sense as anything else, which means it makes no sense at all.

Always the same?

The Lieutenant nodded. Yep. Ten kids – 5 boys, 5 girls between 5 and 10 years old. That’s what makes it so damn difficult. One year a 5-year-old will be spared, the next year he won’t. Or he can make it all the way to 11, then he’s safe. If we knew who would be taken, we might could do something, but we don’t.

What if their folks sent them away, sent them to relatives, or something?

Tried and didn’t work.

There has to be some method to this madness? asked the Sergeant.

You’ve got the files, what did you find out?

The sergeant shook his head. No pattern I can see. The kids don’t have to be born here, just be here when they turn 5.

You sure? We thought that and when a kid turned 4, we sent them to live with grandparents, uncles, aunts, anyone just to get them out here.

And?

And nothing. Some parents even moved, and it didn’t make any difference. Come Halloween at midnight, and poof - there was no kid. Just vanished into thin air. Just gone. Again, sometimes the kid was 5, other times he or she was 10. No pattern, just that damned range – 5 to 10, 5 boys, 5 girls.

Why do people live here if they know they’ll lose their kids?

The Lieutenant shook his head. They don’t know. In fact, even with the disappearing kids, it is safer to live in Davenport than anywhere else. We don’t have any drownings, no poisonings, no automobile accidents, no fires, no shootings, no childhood diseases, no nothing except the disappearances. 10 kids a year is half what any other city has per capita. It’s a hell of a gamble, but raising a kid anywhere is. We just have this damned Halloween nightmare - Davenport’s disappearing kids.

I don’t know if I could handle it, said the Sergeant.

Some can’t, most do. The Lieutenant shrugged. What can you do? It’s a big crap shoot. You don’t know if you’ll roll sevens or snake eyes. All you do know is if you make it to 1 minute after midnight Halloween, if you make it to the first of November, your kid will be safe until next Halloween. Five years, and you are guaranteed your child will become an adult.

What about after the kid turns 10?

Then he or she is safe until they are 18, then they have the same risks and any other 18-year-old has - no more, no less. Most of the parents here are kids who grew up here. They are willing to take the risk, wiling to roll the dice.

Why are you so blasé about this?

I’ve been through it before, many times. The first time was tough, then you realize there is nothing you can do. It’s a trade-off, a deal you make when you live in Davenport.

It’s a deal with the devil.

The Lieutenant nodded. Could easily be. This is not natural, not normal. It’s our Faustian bargain, our deal with the devil, or whoever.

Maggie’s not handling this well.

Josh is five, right?

September 28th.

I wish I could tell you what to do. My only advice is to spend as much time with Josh as you can. Take as many pictures, videos as you can, and then be grateful you have your other kids.

Did it happen to you?

The Lieutenant closed his eyes and nodded. She was 7, her name was MarieAnne. He raised his head, eyes still closed, but a slight smile curled his lips. Prettiest little girl, you could imagine. Smart and pretty and fun, and funny. She was a delight, she was our first, the eldest.

How did you get past that?

The Lieutenant shook his head. Just like any other parent who loses a child, you cling to each other and love your other children. We tried to have another, but we couldn’t, didn’t. We still have little birthday parties for her, always the same seventh birthday party. Might not be the best thing to do, but it works for us. It’s been more than 10 years now. It still hurts, it still...

Sorry, I should’ve known.

How could you. What are we going to do for you? You want time off?

The Sergeant shook his head. I don’t know. Will you need any help?

Nah, things are pretty quiet on Halloween. Most people just go on about their lives.

I’d like to be home with Maggie.

Good, that’s where you should be. Whatever happens, call me, okay?

Thanks boss.

Go.

Come to bed, honey. There’s nothing you can do.

I told him to call me, said the lieutenant. He may need somebody to talk to.

Only if it’s bad news.

What time is it?

Midnight. See, everything is all right.

You’re right.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Entropy

Not sure what was the prompt for this story. It had something to do with entropy. It is a sci-fi horror story, or it was supposed to be. Enjoy.

The Second Law of Thermodynamics says that the entropy of any isolated system always increases. Isolated systems spontaneously evolve towards thermal equilibrium—the state of maximum entropy of the system. More simply put: the entropy of the universe (the ultimate isolated system) only increases and never decreases.

https://courses.lumenlearning.com/introchem/chapter/the-three-laws-of-thermodynamics/

Okay, so what? asked Leonard.

So, what if I found a way to make an isolated system?

Have you? asked Leonard.

I nodded. Almost, better than almost, but it’s still not the definition of an isolated system. I still need to put in some energy.

Leonard shook his head. Then it’s not an isolated system.

What if I get out more energy than I put in?

Leonard laughed. Cold fusion?

I shook my head. No, it's electrostatic insulation.

Huh, electrostatic insulation?

I nodded. I think I’ve found a way to keep all the system energy in and all the non-system energy out. The net gain is increased energy in the system – more entropy.

Is it useable energy?

I shook my head. Not yet. First, the net gain is small. It’s appreciable, measurable, but it will take time before I have sufficient surplus. I shrugged. And I don’t know how to breach the electrostatic barrier and still maintain isolation.

He grinned. But you think I might?

I nodded, returning his grin. You might.

Can I see it?

This way, I motioned to the door to my laboratory.

It’s not very big, said Leonard, over his shoulder, looking at the Entropy Enhancer.

It wasn’t very big. In fact, it was not much bigger than a countertop microwave. That was because it started as a countertop microwave. I needed a way to shroud the unit in a continuous field of electromagnetic waves – microwaves. Only with a much higher frequency and shorter wavelengths. Powerful enough and small enough to repel all charged sub-atomic particles. I got lucky, it even worked on cosmic rays. I got real lucky. I explained how it worked.

Leonard rubbed his jaw. Hmmm... all I have to do is pierce your gamma ray shield and then extract energy, it that about it?

I nodded. That’s about it.

Anything I should know about your frequency generator? You’ve done something no one else has ever done. We’ve never made gamma rays...

Actually, I’ve made Zeta-rays – shorter and more powerful. It could be I made something shorter than cosmic rays.

Leonard laughed. Zeta-rays, not something more conservative like Delta or Epsilon rays?

I laughed, shaking my head and grinning. Nah, in for a penny, in for a pound. ‘Sides, I liked the sound of Zeta-rays.

You know, just generating Zeta-rays could get you the Nobel.

I nodded. It could, but what if I’m right? What if we can increase entropy here on earth? What if we can make a functioning isolated system able to generate energy?

A perpetual motion machine? asked Leonard, walking around the device.

I followed him as we walked. "It’s more than that if we can harness the extra energy. What if we can make usable energy whenever and wherever we want? Both solar and wind