Cheops and Other Trunk Tales

By Steve Bartholomew

This is a collection of trunk tales. A trunk tale is a story which I dug out of my trunk. I wrote it years ago, it didn't get published, so I filed it away in my trunk and forgot about it. Recently I began winnowing my papers and found several that I think are not too bad. The first story, "Cheops," I first published as a stand alone short. It's now included. Cheops is an angry elephant, and you can't blame him. The other stories are a varied mix, from love to horror. I hope you will read them and decide they are not too bad.

Steve

• Language: English
• Publisher: Steve Bartholomew
• Release date: Jul 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223399933

Steve Bartholomew

I grew up in San Francisco, joined the Army after high school. That's where I got my most valuable education. Since then I've lived in a few other places, such as Mexico City and New York. Now I inhabit a small town in Northern California, where we have a volcano and a lake. What more could I ask? I have been writing since age 9. What more do you wish to know?

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Cheops 

and Other

Trunk Tales

by

Steve  Bartholomew

Trunk Tales, copyright 2023 by Steve Bartholomew, published by Dark Gopher Books. The story Cheops was previously published as a stand-alone short story.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

What is a trunk tale?

Atrunk tale is a story I dug out of an old trunk.  I  have been writing for a number of years. I have written many stories, some terrible, some not too bad. Recently I decided to start getting rid of some of the old manuscripts I′ve accumulated. To my surprise, I found some of them not too bad. I had sent some of them to magazine publishers and collected rejection slips. In those days I took rejection seriously. Besides, there were not than many markets for short fiction, not like the old days before TV. I gave up easily and filed these stories away. But now they have come out of my trunk, into the world again. I hope you will find some of them not too bad.

The first story is a trunk story in a different sense, since it involves an elephant.

CHEOPS

Istumbled into the city by accident. If I had known it was there I would have gone a long way around to avoid it. Nobody in their right mind would go in a city, in my opinion. Not that they're dangerous, it's just that there's usually nothing to eat and it's real easy to get lost. But that's how I found the Egyptian tomb.

This is a simple story, though it mayn't sound it. I had been working my way south from the mountains. I was searching for Easy Living, someplace where there would be lots of food and mild winters and nothing too mean to fight. Not much to ask for, I thought.

I followed the creek until it became the river, and then I stumbled down the green hillside. I noted the strange shapes below in the valley, like odd rock formations I'd seen sometimes in the mountains. I thought nothing of them until the bushes began to change to jungle and the rocks became more frequent and suddenly I was lost in a maze of walls.

I sat down, mortified. Dumb Calhoun, I thought. Got yourself lost again. I sat there trying to figure it out instead of running around in a panic. Well, I figured, all I had to do was find the river again and keep following it until it went somewhere else. If I could find the river.

Then I heard a distant trumpeting, an eerie, winding horn. Something about it made the hackles on my neck rise. I shrugged and looked around again.

Those strange blocky shapes below, covered with jungle, were the buildings of a city. A few yards away I noticed a hole in a wall where there must have once been a door. I looked through and found some stairs leading to a lower level. I went down them and soon was on the roof of another building. There I saw an opening and went down inside.

I nearly had a heart attack as I turned around. There was a naked man pointing a finger straight at me and grinning. Then I realized it was just a dummy, one of those plaster things they used to put clothes on, God only knows why.

I wandered around in the dim building for awhile and figured it must have been some kind of market where people used to go and buy stuff. There was a lot of junk in there, none of it any use to anybody. Things made out of plastic and glass and metal, with dials and screens and switches that don't do anything anymore, if they ever did. A few scraps of old clothes lying around, mildewed and moth chewed. A whole floor full of different kinds of furniture. I thought of sleeping on one of the beds that night, but decided it would be too spooky. Finally I got out of there and found myself on a road, way down the hill from where I'd started. I could hear running water.

I followed the road to the sound, until I saw a true wonderment: a fountain tossing water to the sky. It was in a sort of open space, with benches and brick pathways. In the center was a round pool with a jet of water that shot up ten or fifteen feet and fell back again. I wondered it still worked after all these years, I guessed someone must have left the spigot turned on when this city was left for dead a hundred years ago. I stood staring at it awhile, until I realized there was someone else there. I hadn't seen him at first because he was directly opposite, hidden by the jet of water. He was standing with his back to me, looking out at the city, maybe he was wondering too. I ducked down behind a bench and waited till he moved. Then, quiet as a cat, I followed.

I could see he was an older man than me, maybe 30 or so. He was scrawny and sunburned, with a scraggly beard and raggedy clothes and patched up boots, and he carried a shotgun over one shoulder. I'm good at tracking, and I followed like a master thief as he stomped down the middle of the lane. Not that I was interested in robbing him, but if there were more folks around I wanted to find them before they spotted me.

I followed him a mile or so, me dashing from shadow to shade, him tromping along like he hadn't a care. He went down as far as another cluster of ruined buildings at the end of a broad avenue. I took cover behind a rusted out machine, debating how to cross that open space, but then something poked me in the back of the neck.

Stand up slow, with your hands over your head, the woman's voice said.

I thought, Guess I wasn't so quiet, standing up slow.

Now turn around.

I turned with my hands in the sky. There was a crossbow pointed at my throat. On the other side of that was a girl, maybe sixteen or so. She was pretty except for her crossed eyes. She wore a red silk gown and a fur coat and about twenty pounds of pearls and beads and diamonds and emeralds and rubies and gold bangles and rings and ear rings, and silver bracelets and buckles, and turquoise pendants and amethyst stickpins, and a jasper in her nose. Under all that she had old brown hiking boots on her feet. I wondered she could have moved quiet enough to surprise me.

Take a look at this, Josiah. It was trying to sneak up on you.

The man I'd been following came back to look me over. He picked his nose with his free hand.

Better take it to Jeremiah, he said.

So they marched me across the open square, the man first, glancing back at me now and then: then me, Calhoun, with my hands straight up in the sky and the back of my neck tingling and tickling from having the crossbow pointed at it: then the girl so quiet I wasn't sure she was still there, but I was afraid to look.

They marched me up to the big square building in the center. Up close, I could see someone had been taking care of it. The vines and weeds had been cleared away and most of the windows repaired. It was a smart building, with marble stairs and big bronze doors and two statues of lions in front. We walked straight through the doors, and inside it was quiet and cool.

There was a kid about my age sitting on a chair in the hallway. He wore a shoulder holster with a big cap-and-ball revolver in it, and he was eating corn bread smeared with honey. My stomach rumbled, wanting some,

Where's Jeremiah? the man with the shotgun asked.

The kid studied his corn bread. Meditating.

We'll wait.

The girl was humming a tune to herself as we went into another room. They let me put my hands down and she asked if I was hungry. I nodded hard.

I'm Rebecca, this is Josiah, and the one outside is Zanger. Who are you?

I put my hand to my mouth to show I couldn't talk. She blinked her eyes in two different directions.

Dummy, huh? Might of knowed there'd be something wrong with you. Haven't met anyone yet what didn't have something wrong. Josiah's got a bad heart. Zanger out there looks normal, but he's crazy as hell. Jeremiah - well, you'll see. Can you read and write? Yes? Josiah, why don't you bring some hot soup and a pencil and paper, while I baby sit my friend here?

While Josiah Was gone she waved the loaded crossbow, making me nervous.

Know what this building is? No? It's a library. Thousands of books here. Jeremiah claims he's read all of them, which might be true. Jeremiah's smart, prob'ly the smartest man in the living world today. That's why we listen to him. He says the library is the most important building here, because knowledge is power. If you can read and write he might like you.

I wondered if I should show her my book, the one I was writing. I mean the same book I’m writing this in now. But I decided to wait. She probably couldn't read much anyway. Josiah came back with a pot of soup and some writing paper. I spelled out my name for her.

Calhoun, she said, closing one eye to read. Why were you following Josiah?

I was pretty hungry, I guess I hadn't eaten for a day or two. I tried to scribble an explanation while chugging down the hot soup. It was delicious though it burned my tongue. While I scribbled and she read with one eye closed I noticed she lowered the crossbow and seemed to forget it. I enjoyed the soup a lot more then. Josiah came back in the room before I was finished.

Jeremiah wants to see him now, he said. He says he thinks he'll have to die.

Jeremiah shook his fist at me and at the walls of the room.

Ever been in a place like this before, Calhoun? Rebecca had told him my name, of course. I shook my head, glancing again at the walls that were fifteen feet high and covered with books. There were a lot of spider webs and dust and more books than I ever dreamed existed. Jeremiah shook his white beard at me, squinting with bloodshot eyes.

Thousands of books! If I told you how many you wouldn't believe, so I won't! The collected wisdom of an entire civilization, and I've read every book in this place! Do you know how I could do that, Calhoun?

I shook my head. He came closer and put his face an inch or two from mine’.

I've got an I.Q. of over 200, that's how, he hissed at me. I can read a book from cover to cover in 30 seconds flat and remember every word of it for the rest of my life. Do you doubt me? No, of course you don't, not with Zanger and his .44 in the room. The point is, do you know what all this knowledge and wisdom is worth, Calhoun?

I shook my head again. He snapped his fingers in my face.

That's what it's all worth. Ain't worth shit, Calhoun. - Except for one book. See all those volumes on the shelves? None of them could save the human race, not 4000 years worth of useless information. It's all junk, all except for one book. This one here. He picked up a thin, leather bound volume from a table and held it in the air. Can you read the title, Calhoun? He opened it to the first page. I read:

THE EGYPTIAN BOOK OF THE DEAD

I saw in a dream that you're bound to die, Calhoun, Jeremiah said.

Then it was I heard that distant trumpeting again, but closer now. This time it seemed to go on and on, a demented wailing. Jeremiah flicked his eyes toward the high windows.

Ah. That would be Cheops. He sounds in a bad mood. Do you ever have dreams, Calhoun? Nightmares?

I nodded yes.

Cheops is your worst nightmare. There's something I want you to see downstairs.

So we went below, far below the surface