Chasing a Muse: Short Stories

By Judson Klein

The stories include: a janitor helps a child inside an orphanage maintain a reality only he can see. A young man lives blissfully among spirits in a graveyard. A priest tries to avert tragedy between a conflicted couple. A peaceful world, free of contradiction, is turned upside-down by a movement of self-importance. A man trying to capture the beauty of endangered tigers on film encounters poachers. A French lieutenant returns to his home town after WWI to find it very changed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 12, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524624156

Judson Klein

Judson is a writer of music, poetry and literature with a history of performing at open mics, coffee shops, book stores, small festivals and clubs. He grew up immersed in nearly all genres of literature, with a fondness for the classics. A graduate of Utica College, the author’s works span a spectrum of science fiction, memoirs, poetry, fiction and short stories. His efforts continue to capture – or somehow express – that which cannot be put into words.

Book preview

December

After about 72 hours, Louis was finally able to see things around him as if they made some sort of sense. Of course they didn’t, but the thought amused him anyway.

The room dipped and swayed. Focusing on the window across the room nearly made him violently seasick. Eventually he was to learn the window only looked upon the bricks of the next building. The light in the room provided a greyish hue.

Everything seemed sanitary, but so old. The white paint was caking off the ceiling. The bed posts showed signs of rust. The silvery blanket covering him was obviously from an Army surplus store, its faint red cross still intact. Maybe his accident was not classy enough to be placed in the bourgeoisie section of the facility, he thought. The doctor entered.

Hello, Louis, the doctor said.

Louis opened his mouth and a froth of words spilled out. The doctor looked down at his clipboard and jotted something. It was the same reply every doctor gives to that sort of remark, Louis thought.

Yes, I see you, Louis managed.

How are you feeling today? The nurses tell me you’ve been more aware these days.

Louis didn’t remember any nurses.

So. What do you recall of the last month? the doctor continued.

I can vaguely picture a man on top of me, pushing his fingers into my sternum.

Yes. That is one way we revive people with injuries such as yours. We use pain to keep them alert. It decreases the potential they will lapse into a coma. We really had to slap you around.

Why can’t I move?

Oh you will. From what we’ve seen there wasn’t enough damage done to make a lasting difference. You went into a rather bad shock, but will regain complete movement soon. The brain is an amazing thing, Louis. When one portion of it is damaged another simply wakes up, to perform the duties of the former. But it takes time. Usually years. Judging from your CT scan, you should be fully functioning in a few months.

Functioning?’

We’ll keep you on the medication a while.

Where is Alice?

The doctor sighed and shook his head.

"Now Louis, I know you know about…Alice. And you know it too. You’ve been over this with our counselors. Get some rest."

After the doctor’s quick exeunt without shutting the door, Louis looked to either side of the bed then out to the room. No one was there. He began to cry. From then on he saw the nurses come in each day to change his sheets and his robe after he cursed and urinated on himself. In a week, he mustered the strength to walk to the toilet. The grey light lingered each day.

A KINGDOM IN A STORAGE CLOSET

Antonio turned the key. He opened the door and entered the storage closet.

It was old and cluttered, like the rest of orphanage. Jackets and overcoats hung on racks along one wall. Some waited for winter, when the children would zip them up before racing out to the yard and through the snowflakes to make angles on the ground. Others kept the autumn wind off them while they made piles of leaves and jumped into them.

A row of cleaning tools leaned against the opposite wall.

The maintenance and storage rooms had recently been combined. The former was turned into a dormitory for the growing population of children. In the storage closet, stacks of luggage filled a shelf over the door. The only open spaces on the floor were lanes between all the boxes and equipment, including a lidded garbage can and plastic Christmas tree.

Antonio selected a mop and a bucket and took them into the hall. Before closing the door, his fingers hovered over the lock on the inner knob. He considered pushing it in, then remembered the Gitway child had been acting up, and was likely agitated and lonely. He may need to visit his imaginary world, tonight. Antonio left the door unlocked.

Antonio walked down the hallway to the recreation room to begin cleaning. Some children lingered at their small door windows, taking in every moment of light before it was switched off at 11 p.m.

He paused by the Gitway child’s room and looked in. There Morris lay almost-covered. His eyes were closed and mouth open. A trail of saliva curved across his cheek. The fantasy books he read daily lay on the floor next to his bed. Antonio knew the child had taken his meds, though they only kept him asleep for a few hours. Antonio smiled and carried on.

He said Good evening! to the third-shift staff who just arrived. The staff was settling behind his table at the intersections of hallways with a variety of snacks, books and beverages. Headphones from his Walkman – a new portable music device – hung around his neck.

Antonio began mopping the rec room.

At 4 a.m. he returned to the residence halls. They were lit only by the dim red exit signs on either end. He tiptoed past the third-shift staff; whose legs were sprawled under the table, arms limp on either side, and chin on his sternum. He was sound asleep, as usual. Music thumped from his headphones.

Antonio crept to the storage closet, creaked open the door, and whispered into the dark.

"It is I, the great wizard, come to honor my king!"

When he was answered only by dry air, he stepped inside and clicked on the light. The storage closet was as he left it. He returned the mop and bucket, turned off the light, then exited without locking the door.

At the end of the hall he looked back at the third-shift staff, who was snoring away. He considered waking him, but thought the kids rarely caused trouble at night. Supervising was not his job, anyhow.

He started towards the stairs when he heard a doorknob turn. He paused and looked over his shoulder. The door to Morris’ room opened to a sliver of black. From it stepped the boy. He was small as a dwarf. His flannel pajamas were covered with crescent moons.

Morris saw Antonio. They smiled together. Morris opened his mouth to cry out a greeting, but Antonio raised a finger to his lips and pointed at the sleeping staff. They shared a muted giggle. Antonio pointed down the hall, towards the storage closet. Morris nodded and went.

The door drifted open by itself. A shaft of light fell on Rubbish – Morris’ rotund page, court jester and dear friend since the day he conquered the Kingdom of Storage. Rubbish, the only creature shorter than King Morris, merrily clanked over to him, smiling. They embraced.

King Morris! Rubbish elated through the broad smile that never fell. Where hast thou been? It seems millenniums have passed since you’ve visited us!

"Hush! King Morris covered Rubbish’s mouth. We are on the brink of Goon’s realm. Staffmen lurk nearby!"

Rubbish bobbled to and fro, excited.

Yes, my nobility, yes, he whispered. But it has been so long! Tell me where you’ve been!

I have been detained by Goon and her Staffmen. They’ve kept me filled with their potions and bound in their dungeon. But I have stolen away, again. They dropped their guard, and to my kingdom I returned!

King Morris clicked on the light and shut the door behind him. The sun appeared, spreading warmth over his realm. Rubbish continued to hop in circles, excited.

It was Storage, the wondrous land. It rolled before him teeming with danger and adventure. Grassy lanes rose and dipped between forests, villages and mountains. Birds and wolves chattered and howled in a distant symphony so vibrant he felt his own irrelevance melt away, releasing the joy he would never let go.

King Morris looked behind him. There stood the mouth of a cavern into Mt. Dhor. Beyond it lay the wicked lands of his enemies; including Goon. The cavern was black and stretched over his head, as if ready to devour him. He listened, but heard only the night Staffman’s muffled snore. At any time Goon’s terrifying roar could echo down the hallway, striking fear into all. He would have to flee, lock the door behind him and return to his dungeon, undetected. Should the Kingdom of Storage be discovered, especially with him inside, it would be no more.

She must never find him here. This, the great wizard Antonio told him, is of utmost importance.

He looked up to the range of huge stones – the Boulders of Soot Case – soaring ominously above the cavern entrance.

Rubbish took his hand and pulled him into the kingdom. They laughed together and ran – almost charging – into the world he dreamed of each day.

Storage has missed you so, he said. All here have waited patiently. We anticipate your orders!

The pleasure is truly mine, dear Rubbish.

Allow me, Rubbish halted him before a tall, steely fortress. There a row of long cloaks seemed bunched together unceremoniously. Rubbish called to them. Attention, Knights of Cotes! Your king has returned! Bid him good tidings!

The cloaks rustled, then expanded. Metallic helmets with visors and small crowns appeared atop each. Mailed arms slid out of the sleeves and seized the long hilts of sheathed broadswords. They separated, forming a line of six knights with the radiance of an army. They saw him, and immediately stood at attention.

King Morris! they announced in unison. The Kingdom of Storage – which we serve – welcomes your return! What is thy bidding, sire?

At ease, gentlemen, King Morris said. It is I who welcome you. Ne’er did any king have such a noble entourage. The honor, the privilege, is mine. He bowed to them. They cheered and returned the bow.

One of the Knights stepped forward. It was Sir Cotton, the noble warrior who stood by him during his battles with the water-serpent Hoze, the horned speed-demon Shwinn, and the howling dragon Hoover. Never did Sir Cotton pause or retreat.

My king, Sir Cotton said. Your castle remains unfinished. We drove away all who dared defile its construction, including the dreadful Goon.

You’ve served me well, King Morris became excited. Accompany me to my future home.

Yes, my liege!

The knights and Rubbish followed him as they marched down a grassy lane towards his castle-to-be. When they arrived, he sighed happily. It was exactly as he left it. The four walls encasing it still stood, as did the guard-towers on either side. Debris was scattered throughout what would be his courtyard.

I am honored, King Morris said. I was worried you’d let it crumble. But here you are, proving yourselves my truest friends, as I hope you’ll always be.

He turned to shake hands with Sir Cotton when a boom of thunder sounded. It came not from the sky but through the ground, rattling their feet. They turned to the mouth of Mt. Dhor, the source of these vibrations.

Be off, sir! Sir Cotton motioned towards the dark cavern. Goon must not see you here. Make haste! Make haste!

Morris dashed into Mt. Dhor, knowing he had lingered here too long. The morning Staffmen were arriving. He turned the knob, cracked open the door and peeked out. Feet with legs were clattering past him, up and down the hall. Soon a pair would belong to Goon. When the hall was clear, he slipped out and shut the door behind him. All staff seemed too occupied with their paperwork and coffee to notice him. He slunk back to his room.

At 2:59 p.m. Morris stood before his mirror adjusting his tie and combing every hair into place. The knock came, as it had many times. He opened the door to a skirt towering over him. He looked up to the familiar misshapen rolls of fat and globular face. Goon had found him again.

Morris! she said, the corners of her mouth straining to smile. Now don’t you look sharp. Are you ready to meet a couple who would love to be your new parents? Her visage was frightening, like a jack-o-lantern come alive.

I don’t wannanother interview, he said.

Come, now. They are very nice people. They even brought some candy for you. Isn’t that exciting?

Yes, Mrs. Ghune.

The interview went as usual. The couple whom God would not give a baby were very nice, even fun for a while. They showed him pictures and talked about a house far away from his kingdom. When the interview was done, Mrs. Ghune said Good job! Their voices went up and he felt the fright he experienced every day when he lived with his father.

Morris held his ears and closed his eyes. He mentally called to the Knights of Cotes to come and take him back to his kingdom. But as always Mrs. Ghune and her staff pulled him away, saying it’s alright it’s alright and put him back in his room.

That night he swallowed his medicine, showed the on-duty staff beneath his tongue, and slid under his blankets; waiting. He saw the great wizard pass the window and smile. Morris smiled back. He turned on his side and pretended to sleep. He closed his eyes during room checks. An eternity seemed to pass before he heard the snores of the night staff. He quietly climbed out of bed and snuck down the hall. He froze when the staff stirred, then carried on towards his kingdom.

He turned the knob, quietly thanking the great wizard for leaving it unlocked again. Inside Rubbish bounced forth when he saw him. This time he looked a tad uneasy.

Noble sire, Rubbish whispered, I believe something is amiss.

What do you mean?

I sense a presence. Of what, I know not. But it does not bode well in your kingdom.

Thank-you, honorable page. I will certainly look into it.

Rubbish followed him along the grassy lane. King Morris paused and asked the Knights of Cotes if they had seen anything unusual.

Nay, my lord, Sir Cotton said. But should some evil show its face, you can count on us to protect the kingdom unto our final breaths.

Let us hope it doesn’t come to this.

Aye, sire.

They marched to the armory. There stood an arsenal of great weapons; some taller than he, including the Lance of Mopp and Sword of Brume. He pondered which to select.

A terrible rustling erupted among the trees. Many shook and some fell. A long, greyish snout appeared with twitching whiskers and horrible, yellow fangs. Then came the narrow red eyes, matted fur and reaching paws of a great rat, flanked by a second and third equally as terrifying.

Their teeth gnashed and eyes fixed on King Morris. Together they growled.

Sir Cotton and the knights sprang to his side.

Sire! Sir Cotton cried. Shall we slay these beasts before they step again?

Nay! King Morris answered. ’Tis my kingdom, and my duty to vanquish such beasts!

He seized the Lance of Mopp and turned to the three rats.

They crept forward, making an awful sound. Quivering threads of drool hung from their jaws. They poised to spring upon him. King Morris raised the lance high, and bellowed –

Be gone, dreadful beasts! I shall not yield my kingdom to thee!

He brought the lance down with a crash! When it struck the ground lightning fired through the weapon and scattered in a dazzling array. Thunder boomed loudly among the clouds.

Two of the rats squealed and fled into the trees. The foremost creature reared upon its hind quarters, and bared its teeth in a hideous smile. It lunged at King Morris, who jumped aside. Its jaws snapped on empty air. He jabbed the lance at the beast, who retreated a step.

You think me an easy meal? he said. Behold –

Electricity forked through the lance as he swung it in an arc at the forest. Electric threads struck the trees, sending charred branches and leaves in all directions.

The rat screeched, snapped angrily then hurried away, defeated. The knights cheered. Rubbish danced. They circled him and sung praises. King Morris stood proudly with the sizzling lance.

Then they heard the clattering of footfalls within Mt. Dhor.

The third-shift monitor raced up and down the hall, looking. He knew if the child were gone and traveled a long distance he would likely lose his job. Then he spotted Morris walking toward him, feigning innocence.

Morris! he said with a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes groggily. I saw you weren’t in your room! What the heck happened? What was that banging sound? Are you okay? What are you doing up this late?

I was sleep-walking again. I think I ran into a door. I’m sorry.

Later that day Mrs. Ghune paced the hall. All clients and staff were at lunch. The incident report on the Gitway child was beneath her arm.

She paused by the storage closet’s door. There were plenty of things to bang around in there. Perhaps Morris had somehow snuck inside when the night staff was in the bathroom, or…

She tried the knob and found it locked. She withdrew her key and opened the door. Inside she walked under the large pile of luggage and through the narrow lanes. She observed the trash can, racks of coats, coiled hose, dusty ten-speed bicycle and cleaning equipment, finding nothing unordinary. Then she saw the five crates stacked in an unusual formation. They enclosed an area, like a hiding place. Two lamps stood on either side, like towers. Books and objects formed a semicircle before it, like a courtyard.

She scratched her chin and considered.

Morris finished his dinner and went back to his room. He had declined his television and outside time. He lay in his bed, looking out the open door into the lobby, counting the times the second-shift monitor looked at the clock, waiting for his shift to end.

He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. He imagined what he would do if the rats returned tonight, possibly in greater numbers. Perhaps he and his knights would charge into battle this time.

After four hours passed, he heard clicks of doors and murmurs of children settling into their rooms. As voices diminished, he heard one he recognized.

He leapt up, raced to his doorway and peered out. He smiled when seeing the great wizard. He was in his magical overalls, chatting with the night staff. Antonio saw him and returned the smile. Morris shut his door and leapt back onto his bed, knowing his friend would visit him soon.

Antonio tapped on his door.

Morris flung the door open and hugged the great wizard.

Now, now, Antonio said, don’t get so excited. It’s your bed time, and you need to be sleeping. He looked around, then whispered to Morris with a huge grin. Or at least look like you are.

They laughed together. The third-shift monitor looked up from his paperwork, wondering.

I shall, great wizard!

Antonio squatted and looked into his eyes.

Now. Tell me what happened last night. I talked to your house manager, and she tells me there was a big banging noise during the wee hours. She said the staff saw you out of your room. Is that true?

"The rats came to take over my kingdom.