Ted's Tales

By Ted Delgrosso

Welcome to Ted's Tales.

In this book you, will find a mixture of short stories. Whether you have only a few minutes or a few hours, there is something here for you. I invite you to join me for stories of adventure to witness a bodyguard who is tired of her profession and seeks a way out, two hikers make a discovery that challenges their friendship, a recluse adopts a strange new pet that he found in the woods near his home, an ancient prophecy about to come true, a unique ceremony held on a Navy ship at sea, a meeting of members of an ancient race as they face a new threat, an eventful day at the beach, an early encounter with lifelong implications, a person's efforts to deal with an unexpected companion, and many other tales that will bring you to extraordinary characters, places, and circumstances.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9781662484001

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Ted's Tales

Ted Delgrosso

Copyright © 2022 Ted Delgrosso

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2022

ISBN 978-1-6624-8399-8 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-8400-1 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Contemporary Fiction

The Trick

Change

A Letter to the Professor

Master/Pet

The Mermaid

The Sea Bat

A Tale for Christmas

Morning Hunt

The Shot

The Last Day

Safe

Paintball Hero

Ro Li Revisited

Science Fiction

A Secret

The Gun

Children of the Maya

Rapture

Stepping Out

Daydreaming

Last Day Down the Shore

Big Bear

The Crossing

Waiting

Special

Guardian Angel

About the Author

Part 1

Contemporary Fiction

The Trick

My grandfather was a great hunter. In his community, he was known to get a deer every year and was sought after for advice on hunting techniques and strategies. The walls in his living room, his dining room, and his workshop in the basement were all decorated with trophies. Many times, during our visits, he would serve wild game as supper, telling us what it was only after the meal was over.

As his grandchildren came of age, he would take us into the woods and teach us about the environment, the game animals, and the various hunting skills. Everything that had to do with the hunt was taught to us in a way that emphasized respect for nature and her beasts. We were taught how to dress for the woods in all seasons, how to move as quietly as possible, how to read the weather, and even how to render first aid for minor cuts and scrapes.

As we grew older, Grandpa gave us more specific lessons as they applied to a certain situation. He called these his tricks.

One such trick involved a situation where you are out on a deer hunt, and just as you are getting ready to shoot, the deer becomes aware of your presence and starts to run away. Already near the maximum range of your weapon, the deer will be gone in only a second or two. Rather than shoot at a moving target or give up, you try one last thing. In a loud voice, you shout out. Not necessarily a word or scream, but something in between. And maybe, just maybe, the deer will stop out of curiosity to look at whatever made that noise, thus giving you a last chance at a shot. The trick doesn't always work as no trick does, but once in a while, it will get you game.

I have since used Grandpa's tricks, and in a few situations, they have made the difference for me. And on one occasion it was a miracle.

I was in my early thirties and had made a name for myself as a hunter. I was fortunate enough to be able to afford hunts all over the world and had acquired quite a collection of trophies for my spacious den at home.

On one adventure, I was traveling by plane in Alaska near Nome on a polar bear hunt. I had hired a local professional pilot who knew the area by heart. The plan was to drop us down onto an ice field where he would then guide me on the hunt. As it turned out, about a half hour into the flight, the plane developed engine trouble.

The pilot made a few attempts to correct the situation to no avail, and finally, the engine just quit. He radioed a Mayday and our position. Then he focused on saving our lives. He kept the plane in a shallow dive, and things looked good as it appeared he would be able to glide the plane in for a controlled landing. But just as we prepared to touch down, a strong gust of wind hit the plane and slammed it into the ground.

It was the cold that woke me up. As I regained my senses, I realized that I had been thrown from the plane and survived the crash. As for the plane and pilot, both were gone. A diminishing fire atop a pile of debris was all that remained. I must have been out for a while because it appeared the fire had been burning for a long time. I searched for the pilot but discovered that he had perished. I could not yet even recover his body.

It was then that the truth of the matter hit me. I was alone with only the clothes on my back. I had been prepared for a one-day hunt, but that included supplies from the plane. Things like my pack, rifle, hell, and even my sidearm were now gone in the wreckage. I was alone with no food, water, or shelter of any kind. I wondered if there was anyone who had heard the pilot's Mayday. My life now seemed to depend on it. My only hope it seemed would be to wait for the fire to burn itself out and then to retrieve what I could to await rescue.

As I reviewed the situation, a flash of movement in the distance caught my eye. In an instant, all that had just happened to me was forgotten, for what I saw on the snow was no less than death. And it was heading my way.

At first, I nearly laughed at the irony of it. I had years upon years as a hunter and prevailed against some of the most dangerous predators. Lions, leopards, and even tigers had been challenged and defeated. And now, to end up like this. It was too much.

My death was closer now, obviously onto my scent. It had no idea that I was unarmed, as helpless as a baby seal before its lumbering presence. I was lunch, that's all—a cheap, easily-taken prey. As I looked upon it with awe and contempt, I knew I was a goner. My rifle, my pistol, those tools that made me superior, were all gone, ashes in the wreckage. As for the knife at my hip, a teaser that would only prove to be useless in the end.

I could see its breath now, coming in short and frequent bursts as it labored for its meal. All caution was gone now as it came toward me at almost a happy gait. I had minutes left to live, and I felt the sadness, the loneliness, and the fear all doomed men have faced.

Suddenly I remembered. I was not alone. My tools were not exhausted. I smiled as my plan solidified in my mind. Fear washed away and was replaced with determination. The polar bear was a scant hundred yards away now, and I could hear it snort as it breathed. It was a fearsome sight, but fear had left me. I had hope. It was time to try my plan. If it worked, I would survive. If not, well, I would not live long with my failure.

The bear was close now, and I focused not on it for a moment, but on myself. I calmed down as much as I could and slumped over to appear even weaker than I was. When I was ready, I again looked up at the bear.

It was very close now, only thirty yards distant. The bear had slowed to a careful walk, for it was cautious now. As it looked at me, it growled, checking to make sure there wouldn't be any surprises. I cast my eyes down to avoid direct eye contact but kept a close watch on the bear. It started a slow circle around me, and I pivoted as I had to keep the bear in front of me. I knew that I had only one chance at this, and if I was to survive the day, I would have to be exact in my timing. So I watched and waited.

Finally, now sure of himself, the bear once again ambled straight toward me. When it was about ten yards out, the bear stood up. I very nearly lost my plan to fear as I saw that this beast was almost seven feet tall. But I held together and didn't move. The bear dropped down and rushed me.

I made my move. The bear was certain of a meal now and reached out to get it. With all my strength, I raised myself out of the slump, spread my arms out as wide and high as I could, looked that bear right in the eyes, and screamed as loudly and as ferociously as I could.

The bear stopped in his tracks. It looked at me in a new way. I kept making growling sounds as I continued to glare at it. The bear gave out one last snort, turned, and walked away. I yelled again, and he actually ran away.

I stood there unmoving, watching the bear run away from an easy lunch. Easy? Not this guy. For I had put my heart and soul into becoming fearsome, and it had worked. That and what I said when I yelled. I yelled, "Grandpa!" Thanks, Grandpa.

Change

Emmet set his coat on the chair and switched on the kitchen light. It was cool in the house, and the little droplets of sweat hung on his forehead like balls of ice. He was scared. His home didn't even provide him with that old familiar security anymore, another drastic change. After catching his breath, Emmet walked into the bathroom and stared at the monster