The Notions of Minsa Van Whey/Psychic Biker

By William D. Noe

How can murder change a person?

Just ask Chet. He can tell you that it makes mortal enemies out of former lovers.

How can murder change a person?

Just ask Minsa. She can tell you that it builds a reality where demons and monsters hide in every shadow and behind every door.

Murder creates an unstoppable juggernaut and evil intent in the actions of Chet Masters.

Murder makes for deadly ramifications in the notions of Minsa Van Whey.

How can murder change a person?

How can it not?

The Notions of Minsa Van Whey/Psychic Biker is a collection of a novella and three short stories. Minsa is a dark thriller steeped in base language and adult situations. After Minsa and her lover, Chet, kill Minsas husband, Chet turns on Minsa. Minsa, not exactly a pillar of sanity, falls apart and runs with Chet in pursuit. Detective and friend, DS Blesser tries to find Minsa first, but always seems to be one step behind. In the end, Minsa has to triumph over Chet physically and herself mentally.

Both Psychic Biker stories follow Kelly on his bicycle journey across the country. Along the way he encounters a bevy of interesting characters and is plagued by strange dreams. Seeking enlightenment, he finds only riddles until the answers suddenly thrust themselves upon him.

Finally, a short biography is presented on the mysterious life and death (?) of famous cross country bicyclist, John Plymouth.

Watch as Minsa makes insanity out of sanity and Kelly tries to make sense of his senses. Follow the chase for Minsa and catch up on the travels of Kelly. Wonder at the dreams of Kelly Pickford and cringe at the notions of Minsa Van Whey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 5, 2000
• ISBN: 9781469112343

William D. Noe

Dave Noe, editor in chief of TYPO Magazine, has combined the chilling thriller, The Notions of Minsa Van Whey, with the imaginative fantasy of, Psychic Biker, to produce a combo of chilling imaginative thriller fantasies. Cool! Dive deeply into two psyches, one psychic, one psychotic, both on journeys, one to find himself, one to escape herself. From the green fields between Kansas City and Saint Joseph, Missouri, Dave lets his imagination flow out over his pen and into two worlds that form reality from their shadows. Jump on in and enjoy the nightmares.

Book preview

THE NOTIONS OF

MINSA VAN WHEY/

PSYCHIC BIKER

William D. Noe

Copyright © 2000 by William D. Noe.

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

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

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-7-XLIBRIS

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

Contents

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

PSYCHIC BIKER II:

THE SECOND SPOKE

JOHN PLYMOUTH

HIS DASH IS DANGLING

These stories are dedicated

to my wife, Bobbie Jo

who helps me remain sane

when the demons attack

and who helps me to understand

the meanings of my dreams.

How can murder change a person?

Just ask Chet. He can tell you that it makes mortal enemies out

of former lovers.

How can murder change a person?

Just ask Minsa. She can tell you that it builds a reality where

demons and monsters hide in every shadow and

behind every door.

Murder creates an unstoppable juggernaut and evil intent in the

actions of Chet Masters.

Murder makes for deadly ramifications in

the notions of Minsa Van Whey.

How can murder change a person?

How can it not?

PROLOGUE

"Goddammit, Minsa, shut the hell up! Sit down, willya’? I spend the whole damn day on my feet I don’t need to hear yer yammerin’ when I get home.

Bonnie, where’s my beer? Come on already.

Minsa, what’d I tell you? Get outa’ my way. What’re you, stupid?

Damn."

Sorry, daddy.

Bonnie, get her outa’ here. Send her outside or somethin’. My head’s about to bust.

* * *

Listen, bitch, don’t think you can walk away from me. Get back here. I’m not through with you.

Tommy, I just …

If you want to be seen with me, we got to get a few things straight. First of all, I don’t want you hangin’ around that Irene girl. If anyone is gonna tell you what’s best for you, it’s gonna be me, not some tight kneed prissy cunt that thinks she’s better than everybody else.

She was just trying to be my friend, Tom …

C’mere!

Oh!

I’m the one that loves you, Mins, only me.

I’m … I’m sorry, Tommy.

On yer knees, bitch. Show me how sorry you are.

* * *

Mark, please don’t go out again tonight.

Dammit, Minsa, leave me alone for two minutes.

I never get …

I’m tired of this constant bitching and fighting, Minsa. I’m getting out of here, now. Leave me alone for a while. I mean it. All you do is moan and bitch. If you’d shut the hell up for a little bit maybe I could stand to be around you longer than what I already have to.

I’m sorry, Mark. I really am. Please …

I’ll be back later.

* * *

What’d I tell you?

I know, but what if my husband finds out.

Mark’s my best friend. I’ll tell him I came by to see him.

But, Chet, what if he starts thinking that something’s up?

Hey! Get over here. You let me handle Mark. You just worry about what I want, okay? I’ll take care of everything else. I’ll make everything all right. Got it?

Yeah, I … I guess I’m just being silly. You’re right, Chet. I’m sorry.

* * *

Another one already?

They help me make it through the nights, Paul. Please, just one more prescription. You know I need them. It’s not like it’s an illegal drug or like I’m addicted or anything. You’re a doctor. I need them. You know that.

I can’t just keep doling these things out like they were candy, for God’s sake. If I’m going to keep taking these risks for you, it’s going to start costing more than just an occasional blow job in the office.

Doctor …

The twenty-third my wife’s at her mother’s. You be at the office just after it closes. If you want to keep getting your medicine, you’ll be here, and you’ll keep your mouth shut about it.

I’m … sorry.

CHAPTER ONE

Laughter burst through the waist high corn. On and on, the shrill sounds of lovers at play spilled out across the countryside. An unending stream of staccato giggles and frolicking yips rang out madly and even passionately right up until the screaming began. A dull thud accompanied a two foot shaft of rusted steel through the antique frosted door window. The corn knife embedded solidly into the dark hardwood floor and marked a perfect bullseye in the spot of sunlight now decorated with tiny shards of tinted glass.

My God, Minsa! What have you done? a large imposing man stumbled awkwardly through the stalks of green corn. A youngish rusty blond woman in a light multicolored day dress stood just outside the first row with her hands over her face. She peeked through her fingers at the mess.

The man smiled and shook his head. He grabbed Minsa up in a sweaty embrace and flipped his dangley wet black hair away from his eyes, Looks like you’re a little trouble maker, Missy. I’m gonna have to do something about that.

I just didn’t realize I was swinging so hard, Chet, Minsa smiled and rubbed her right elbow, The plant juices made the handle slippery.

Minsa grabbed Chet by the hand and pulled him along behind her to the old porch, now even older looking due to the hole in the door. Minsa stood on her toes and gazed in through the broken frame. Her mouth drew up tightly and her eyes knitted.

Oh, shit, she sighed as tears welled up in her sky blue eyes, This door was part of the original section of the house. It must be around a hundred and fifty years old. Now I’ve gone and destroyed an irreplaceable family heirloom because I was playing Throw The Cornstalk with an overgrown cop.

Big deal, Chet scratched the back of his neck and stared out over the green field. Out in the middle of the corn surrounded by mounds of weeds and thorn trees he could almost make out the remains of an old farmhouse that had forgotten to fall over. He kind of laughed and turned to Minsa, When I was a kid, my brothers and I would play this game for hours when we were suppose to be hoeing weeds out of the rows. We’d cut the corn down close to the ground and swing it around our heads. Then, we’d yell and throw that bastard as hard as we could at each other. Man, if you had it sharp enough that think could sting like hell. I was great at that. My brothers were all bigger’n me, so every time I had a chance to deal back a little of the bull shit they gave to me, I took it. It was like knocking over Goliath. I was unstoppable.

Minsa placed her hands on her hips and smiled, Just how is that going to help me in this mess, hmmm?

Hey! Chet turned around to Minsa. His eyes hardened momentarily, My point was that we didn’t care if we ended up bruised and muddy, just so we were having fun. Just like you and me. There’s no need to be a whiner.

Minsa stood up nearly at attention with Chet’s rapid response. Chet’s face softened a little and he shook his head again. He gave Minsa a soft slap on the bottom, Come on. Let’s check it out.

He opened the door and inspected the scene. The knife stuck up at a forty-five degree angle that seemed almost to defy gravity. Sticky green liquid was spattered on the floor at the point of impact. Dirt and plant debris still hung on doggedly to the blade and handle. Old caulk and glass lay spread in random patterns across the dark brown unevenly spaced hardwood floor.

Maybe you could get another glass made to look just like this one, Chet shrugged.

That would take too much time, Minsa pushed past Chet and grabbed the knife.

So? Chet stepped into the room behind Minsa and immediately took the knife away, I’m sure someone could make it to where no one would ever know that anything happened. Just get it taken care of and forget about it.

The door’s not what I’m worried about, Minsa bit her thumbnail and paced. She glanced out the door down the dirt road leading to the house, I just don’t know what will happen when Mark finds out.

Yeah, Chet clicked, Husbands are a bitch. Always have been.

I’m not kidding, Chet.

Minsa, Chet threw the knife out into the yard, Shut the fuck up about the stupid window. I’ll take care of it.

But, Chet, Minsa pouted, I have to …

Hey! Chet’s face grew dark. He raised his finger to Minsa’s face.

Mark will wonder, Minsa spoke in a tiny voice and looked at the floor, He will want to know why …"

What the hell did I say? Chet’s voice was deep. His words came slowly. He firmly grasped Minsa’s arm just above the elbow, Drop the subject.

I’m sorry, Minsa closed her eyes and winced in anticipation.

That’s a girl, Chet threw Minsa’s arm away from him. He turned and looked out the door and laughed suddenly, Just tell Mark that a bird flew through it. I’ve known the asshole for years. He never has been able to see what’s going on in his own back yard.

Chet laughed again as Minsa stared at him. He looked at Minsa and paused briefly, then he laughed even harder.

CHAPTER TWO

The walls of corn grew up around the farm house except where the narrow dirt road worked its way into the front yard. A screen door slammed, and the silence was broken by anguished shouts.

Where the hell are you going this time? Minsa’s strained voice echoed through the front yard, You have four hours before you have to go to work. Can’t you spend some of that time with me?

The targeted object of Minsa’s outrage, a short, yet burly man, swung around and clenched his jaw at Minsa. He set