Telling Tall Tales

By John Molik

The tall tale!
The exaggerated, often allegorical and definitely adventurous form of storytelling that has been around since the time of ancient Greece in the west and the Shang dynasty in the east. Classic writers such as: Mark Twain, William Faulkner, Roald Dahl have all dabbled with the entertaining classic tale. And many contemporary writers such as: Stephen King, Michael Faber, and H.P. Lovecraft have taken the genre a step further with their darker, more bizarre stories.
Telling Tall Tales combines elements of both the classic short story and the darker, more bizarre tall tale. In Troubled Waters, we follow the plight of Harvey and Kaitlin in a future apocalypse, an uncanny ark chosen to save humanity, and a survival colony that sows the seeds of civilizations and cultures to come.
In both The Confidence Coat and The Cling Wrap Kid, we are shown how our minds and to some extent, "a little bit of magic," works in our lives in both positive and negative ways. In The Strudel Farm, we discover that we must be very careful of what we wish for and how we obtain it.
Containing a healthy dose of satire, allegory and humor, all of these tales provide the reader an easy, simple narrative experience.
So, go ahead! Try the first one. And, I'm confident that, like the famous potato chips ad, "bet you can't eat just one!"

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Oct 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9780473692032

John Molik

John grew up in Rancho Palos Verdes, California, graduated from the University of California, Davis with a bachelor's degree in economics, and has worked in numerous corporate finance and project management positions in the consumer electronics and IT industries. In 1990, he took an extended backpacking trip of the South Pacific before attending graduate school. In 2003, this penchant for international life continued as John relocated to Christchurch, New Zealand with his NZ-born wife and California-born kids. He is currently residing in Redcliffs.John's passion for writing began when he was a student at UC Davis and worked as a feature writer for the California Aggie newspaper. Having been nominated for a Hearst Journalism Award (1986) for a feature on genetic engineering, John later found the inspiration to write again. In 2013, he began outlining his first thriller, The Fiduciary Delusion, which became the first novel in the Horsemen trilogy. John loves to read techno-thrillers, science fiction, murder mysteries and action and suspense novels. Some of his favorite authors include: Philip K. Dick, Kurt Vonnegut, Lawrence Sanders, Isaac Asimov, Michael Faber and Clive Cussler.John's interests also include science, existential philosophy, health, and both Western and Eastern holistic medicine. John also plays guitar, piano, sings, and writes music. In addition, John is a bit of a weightlifting “gym rat,” and can also be regularly found hiking, sea kayaking, and getting out and about enjoying the beautiful wild outdoors.Contact Information:[e-mail]/WriterJohn

Book preview

Telling_Tall_Tales_Cover_eBook.jpg

John Molik

Telling Tall Tales

ISBN:

Paperback: 978-0-473-69202-5

Kindle: 978-0-473-69203-2

Archived at the National Library of New Zealand

© 2023 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Acknowledgments

This collection of short stories has been extremely entertaining to write. Taking a different tack from my previous novels, these tales allowed me to explore the wild and mysterious, the alternative histories, speculative futures, and finally the surreal aspects of consciousness. Of course, I couldn’t resist by topping these stories off with a healthy dose of satire, which I hope provides an entertaining compilation to all readers.

In Troubled Waters, I build upon the theoretical speculations of a recurrent solar system wide micronova event and its ability to contribute to what many scientists have theorized as, punctuated equilibrium. Following from the work of Cuvier and Velikovsky, many in the catastrophism community, through advances in modern technology, have added to the speculative models of what actually happens to our planet over long spans of time. About twenty-five years ago, I read an excellent book called, Forbidden Archaeology by Michael Cremo. This work had me intrigued as it provided compelling evidence on how our earth’s history has been totally distorted by the ignoring or discarding of certain archaeological facts and observations that don’t fit the accepted scientific paradigm. Also, about ten years ago, I had read an interesting book called, The Electric Universe, by Wallace Thornhill and David Talbot. This gave me the motivation to look at the modern work of Doug Vogt of The Diehold Foundation and Ben Davidson of Suspicious0bservers.org.

I would also like to thank the excellent naval journalists of Navy Lookout, The Royal Navy’s Astute Class of Submarines, https://www.navylookout.com for providing well-presented data that I needed to build a realistic model of my post-apocalyptic submarine.

Finally, the poem read by the character Kaitlin Cohen in Troubled Waters, is The Peace of Wild Things by Wendell Berry. I came across his poetry only recently and it is extremely poignant. The book that this poem came from is The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry published by Counterpoint in 2009.

The magical fictitious spice I created in The Strudel Farm is loosely based on a real fungus that is used as a spice called, Parmotrema perlatum as found in The New Zealand Plant Conservation Network, https://www.nzpcn.org.nz. Fungus is absolutely fascinating. Some of these magical plants have endocrine modulating and psychedelic effects that directly interact and influence cell biology in humans. I was intrigued at the diversity of this magical kingdom (of where plant and animal meet) after perusing The National Center for Biotechnology Information, https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK572246/. June 25, 2021.

Finally, in The Perpetuals, like in Victoria, one of my previous novels, a futuristic society is constructed after the fall of governments based on plutocratic state corporatism. Although there can be no perfect governments, societies, or utopias (as every system would have its issues and challenges) I suggest that definite improvements can be made in how we structure our future communities and governments. If interested in this subject, a simple introduction can be made by visiting, The Left Libertarian channel on YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/@TheLeftLibertarian. A good introductory video is entitled, Visions of a Free Society.

Troubled Waters

October 11, 2046

In the cold distance, a dancing plasma filament touched the horizon, piercing the twilight sky like the teeth of a coyote on the neck of a rabbit. Orange tendrils rose into the cobalt blue expanse within tight swirling tentacles of greenish-yellow highly charged particles. At the juncture of sky and space, a sanguine atmospheric sea expanded out over the horizon like the heavy oozing of blood from a wounded animal. Harvey Scott knew this was heaven dialing 911. God was on the emergency services line asking His people to finally pay attention. He walked back and sat on the lichen covered wooden bench which abutted the outside wall of his modest three bedroom kitset eco-house.

Kaitlin Cohen, his fiancé, walked out with some drinks. Handing him the beer, she leaned up against the cedar clad house, took a sip of her Pinot Noir and stared into the distance with him. A meadowlark’s enchanting melodic chirps emanated from a distant oak tree. It’s so beautiful, she said with a smile while looking out at the immense aurora.

Harvey nodded. It sure is, honey, he whispered. Lowering his head, his eyes filling. And all this—he spread his hands—all this will be gone soon. He paused. In a blink of an eye.

She moved away from leaning against the house and sat down next to him. I found this today.

He looked over as she unraveled the piece of paper. What is it?

A poem. She looked at him. Do you want to hear it?

With tight lips, he nodded.

"When despair in the world grows in me

And I awake in the night at the least sound

in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake rests

in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things

who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief.

I come into the presence of still water.

And I feel above me the day-blind stars

waiting with their light.

For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free."

Harvey nodded and with burning eyes, looked out at the electrified horizon. That’s absolutely beautiful. Who’s it by?

Wendell Berry.

Sounds like he should be sitting right here watching this unfold. He paused. Is he still alive?

Definitely somewhere. She patted his thigh.

He put his arm around her shoulder as they both sniffled a few times. It’s getting late. I’ll have to get the wood stove going. Quickly standing up, he reminded her. Got that fresh kill venison to cook up.

Yeah, I’ll put together the rest. She smiled up at him. We’re going to make it, Harvey. She grabbed his hands. We’ll survive. We are blessed to have been chosen.

I try to keep telling myself that. Looking away from her, he peered back at the distant multicolored horizon. I try to keep telling myself that we wouldn’t be better off facing obliteration like the rest. He stared up at the distorted stars, now wailing in a timbre like a softly screeching tea kettle on the boil. They beckoned, as if calling to him from infinity. Atmospheric discharges routinely whistled throughout the night. The earth’s fragile life-giving membrane vibrated as though being hit by a wind storm the size of God Himself.

She rested her chin on her hand as the meadowlark began flapping its wings, feverishly trying to fly toward the sun. The unknown is what is difficult to digest, Harvey. She sat up straight and quickly changed the subject. Come on. Let’s get this dinner on before we starve to death.

Harvey slapped his thighs and sighed. Yep. You’re right. Let’s eat and be grateful. He grabbed her upper arms and peered into her deep dark eyes. For our last meal on the crust of this earth.

• • •

These auroras are stunning; however, I must admit, they are far from comforting, remarked Harvey as he stoked the old Queen Atlantic wood stove with dry cuts of the local oak. The longer and more spectacular they get, the more magnetism the earth is losing.

Kaitlin started chopping the broccoli. And the more chaos becomes king. The birds don’t even know where to migrate to anymore. And, those whales!

That was distressing seeing that massive stranding yesterday. And it’s not just the animals that are losing their minds.

I know, she admitted. And if it wasn’t for these medications that your dad gave us, I’d say we’d be just as batshit crazy as those in the cities.

Harvey stood up and slapped his hands. Yeah, well. We can only speculate what’s going on out there other than what we hear from my dad. He rubbed his hands together. That’s why we got all those guns. Laughing, he continued. Gun control?! Could you imagine that concept now? Living out here on survival mode?

She shook her head.

There is no way to control this death drive in humans, especially with what my dad said about all these cosmic rays zapping our locus coeruleus, was it? Or the amygdalas and these other major emotional areas of our brain.

You thought we would have learned about that earlier.

He snorted. You think? Why? It would have just caused more chaos. Dad said that the possibility of this event was known at least since the 1950s. Some speculate that is why we sent astronauts to the moon in the 1960s. To see if the moon’s surface had the telltalle sign of having—

The spherical glass beads from our sun’s exploding dust shell, she interjected.

Yep. This event is cyclical. Caused all the ice ages. It was the reason for the discontinuity of cultures and civilizations. Our finding mammoths that were instantly freeze dried with fresh grass and clover still in their gut.

It had to be kept quiet, she admitted. But, it still doesn’t make it any easier knowing what’s going on out there in the rest of the world, especially the big cities.

He came over and helped her chop some carrots. I’m actually glad we have no more power, internet,cars, gasoline, you name it.

How much ammo do you still have?

Well. I have a thousand rounds of .223 for the Ruger and the AR-15, and five hundred game loads and two hundred buckshot for the Dickinson. He paused. Oh, and ten boxes of 9mm rounds for the Glock.

What are you going to do with all of it tomorrow?

Well, the program requires that we vacate this place with just enough clothes and gear to get to the port in Long Beach. I have to give them all the firearms and ammo. Although, they do allow us to take the Glock 19 and a box of ammo, but after that, they are going to come around here and firebomb the place to the ground.

She dumped the cut veggies into the pot and placed it on the top of the wood burner. I’m still kind of freaking out about last night.

He walked out and into the outdoor shed, grabbed some cuts of venison from the solar powered fridge. Entering, he slapped the meat down on the cutting board. Yeah, well I’m still not sure if that was a pack of coyotes or intruders. There were some pup tracks out around the shed, but there were a couple prints that were a bit of a mystery.

Big foot? she snickered.

Grinning, he replied. Hey, you never know about those stinky skunk apes. They’re survivors.

They continued preparing their dinner. Kaitlin found another bottle of wine and Harvey got himself his last craft beer, an IPA that was batch brewed just up the coast in Oregon back before the entire power grid melted.

Careful with the booze, said Harvey. Dad said we have to be at our best tomorrow morning. We have a long day ahead of us.

I’m only having one more glass as long as you promise to have just one more beer.

Deal, he said smiling as he put down his drink,

Harvey Scott was born in 2027 in Carlsbad, California. His father was the head of the Defense Science Agency, a spurious organization of the federal government that existed as a hybrid public/private partnership reporting directly to the Pentagon, yet retaining a listing on the New York Stock Exchange. Their primary directive was to work with the various agencies of the US government to develop a strategic plan for the survival of humanity. As far as Harvey knew, his father Lincoln worked for a firm that investigated nuclear submarine, radar, and space communication technologies. Afterall, he would routinely take trips to Newport News, Virginia to visit the General Dynamics boat division, as well as to Pipersville, Pennsylvania to see a company called Aviation Marine Specialty Products. When Harvey was just eight years old, Lincoln took him to the port of Long Beach, just up the coast in Los Angeles County, to visit a real diesel-powered submarine that was used by the Soviet Union and decommissioned in 1994. It sat next to the regal Queen Mary cruise liner. Harvey had recalled to Kaitlin how the Queen Mary tour was a bit frightening to him back then as the ship’s owner’s had developed a Hollywood style version of a haunted ship with special effects, scary music, and a tour guide that sounded like some spooky character from TV. Harvey remembered having to shut his eyes many times to get through it, but he kept them wide open on the submarine tour. He really enjoyed being on board; the experience had left a lasting, positive impression.

Lincoln grew up in Jasper, Texas, a son of a Baptist preacher whose lineage could be traced all the way back through sharecroppers in Arkansas to some of the first slaves brought to Virginia from the Caribbean. A keen outdoorsman, he involved his son in many practical pursuits such as: hunting, fishing, rock climbing, backpacking, boating, and camping. Lincoln was divorced, but his ex, Harvey’s mom, was also a big part of his life growing up. She excelled in science, having a PhD in astronomy, and would take Harvey and his half-brother, Terrance to museums, exhibits, and observatories.

Harvey was remarkably athletic and excelled in all sports, especially baseball and soccer. Yet, when he turned seventeen, his dad sent him to a physical trainer with the goal of getting him on the football team. The PT worked him extremely hard using a mix of free-weights, cardio, endurance, and balance routines. By training hard in the gym and on the football field, he had achieved remarkable results. So by just last year (his nineteenth birthday) and with only two years of football under his belt, he had won the Heisman trophy playing tight end for the University of Texas.

But, then the lights went out. Some glitches had occurred in the five years leading up to that day: big sunspots, solar storms, a few airplane accidents and grid downs, but nothing like what occurred a few weeks ago on September 30th. A G5 geomagnetic storm hit the earth with such ferocity, that ninety five percent of the northern hemisphere’s power grids were totally taken out, with transformers, power lines and most copper wiring in every building, car, train, airplane, you name it, having totally melted. All power grids south of the equator, except for a few small communities in South America, had completely failed. Worldwide, most nuclear power plants had gone off line with several Fukushima meltdown catastrophes having begun with no way to remedy. All regions around these plants were evacuated and left to die.

On his dad’s orders, Harvey was picked up in Austin and airlifted to a pre-fab cabin built a few years earlier in the mountains of Mendocino County, California. Having been debriefed on the way up, he had become anxious about his assignment and the future. Fortunately, Lincoln mentioned that Kaitlin Cohen, his fiancée and love of his life, would join him up there as soon as they could arrange an airlift. Lincoln was now liaising with an agency, the Department of Species Survival (DSS) which had been set-up a few years back to make sure the pool of predetermined young humans of ideal reproductive stock would be well looked after. Kaitlin was a part of the program, not just because of nepotism, but for her near perfect physical, emotional, and mental characteristics. Like Harvey, she had excelled and was at an elite level in several codes of athletics: swimming, gymnastics, and cross fit games. And, of course, all her bloods had come out perfect with the genetic testing, essential hormones, cell counts, enzymes, you name it, all hitting the go zone. Her parents, keen mountaineers and hikers, had taught her survival skills as well. Together, Harvey and Kaitlin’s fitness and optimum baby making (and carrying) capacity made them prime candidates for the program’s only goal: the survival of humanity.

The helicopter arrives at 7 am, reminded Kaitlin.

No problem. Bug out bags are packed. Harvey smiled and grabbed her hand, caressing it. We’re ready for this.

• • •

A small earthquake nudged them out of bed about twenty minutes earlier than planned. Harvey walked outside to be bathed in the morning light. Obscured by high clouds, the sky was inviting with streaks of blood red orange stretching across the horizon. He breathed in deeply and relished the smell of the moist warm September air mixed with sweet grasses, decaying leaves and loam. Bowing his head, he thought. Take it all in. Remember this. Hold on to it.

Morning! Kaitlin emerged with a big smile, breathing in exactly as Harvey. Wow. So beautiful. She peered at him. We’re going to have to remember this feeling. And hold it dear.

Smiling, he nodded. I had the exact same thought.

The silence was deafening. Only a few chirping birds and the last lazy cicadas could be heard in the distance.

Wait, uttered Harvey. He tilted his head. I hear something.

Within a few seconds, a faint hum emerged.

It’s the helicopter, she replied. Let’s grab the bags.

As the chopper descended, Harvey and Kaitlin had everything ready.

Lincoln and another much younger man dressed in military uniform exited the chopper. Morning, son. Grabbing Harvey in a tight bear hug, he looked at her. Kaitlin. Smiling, he released his son and using both his hands, shook hers with affection. This here is First Lieutenant Anderson.

The officer returned a salute.

Everything packed?

Harvey and Kaitlin looked at each other and nodded.

Then, hop in. We got about a three-hour flight time direct to Long Beach. Clear skies all the way. The sub leaves at 4 pm, so that will give you some time to familiarize yourselves with your new environment.

They both nodded as they walked to the helicopter.

I’ll debrief you on the way with a few of the more general details.

Thanks Dad, replied Harvey as he handed his bags to Anderson.

They took off flying southwest along the Eel river to gain enough altitude to cross the coastal mountains. Once clear of the ridge, their flight plan would take them southeast, crossing into the great central valley of California near the now evacuated town of Williams. After that, they roughly follow the I-5 interstate southeast toward the Tejon Pass in Southern California, through the Santa Clarita valley, and finally skirting across the flat badlands of the Los Angeles basin to reach the coastal port of Long Beach.

So, did you guys sleep alright? asked Lincoln.

Yeah, we did, replied his son.

Great. OK. So, as you know, there will be a total of one hundred souls on board. Fifty Adams and fifty Eves, so to speak. These nuclear subs are based on the Astute class, but slightly larger with more capacity for food and provisions storage. Drinkable water, breathable air, and electricity could last twenty five years, but our limiting factor, of course, is food. Our contractor, Marine Specialty Products was able to come up with nourishment technology and a storage plan that will stretch out your available supply to six months. After that, it’s going to get skinny.

Kaitlin leaned back and looked up.

Will we make it, Dad? Honestly. What are the chances that thing goes off next week and we will have enough time?

Lincoln blew air out his nose. Well, ninety eight percent. That’s what the AI generated modeling has confirmed. But, it hasn’t received the final information about this latest solar flare.

Ninety eight percent chance that the world as we know it, ends on October 16th?

Yes, Lincoln responded while he opened up his brief case and handed both of them a copy of the official report."

Look, Dad. I trust you. Harvey put the bound report down. I just can’t see why you are not allowed to be there with us.

I’m too old, Harvey. The oldest Adam allowed is twenty five. This is based on many factors, many of which you can read about in that report I just handed you.

Kaitlin began thumbing through her binder.

There will be a total of four subs. Each one will be heading for four well-planned locations that will be at or near the new equator.

The equator? asked Kaitlin. Is there a reason?

Yes, replied Lincoln. The micronova flare is going to hit the earth in the Pacific just west of the International Date Line. The entire Pacific Ocean is going to basically explode in one tremendous burst of steam and ionized salts and poisonous gasses. There will be huge outbursts of energy, volcanoes going off all over the ring of fire. It won’t matter though as all land area on that side of the earth will be sterilized by the intense plasma discharge, radiation and heat.

Kaitlin swallowed hard. My God, she whispered.

The dust shell will follow later and hit the opposite side of the earth raining hell down upon it. The vast amount of water loss on the Pacific side will cause an enormous vacuum of low pressure that will pull the atmosphere toward it resulting in five hundred miles per hour winds and a huge thermal loss. It’s the old PV=nRT equation. The instant freeze on the opposite side of the earth will render it into an instant ice age.

The mammoths, asserted Harvey as he looked at Kaitlin.

In the 1940s, Major Maynard E. White led a mission to the North Pole to map and understand this location. What he discovered was shocking. Evidence of large marine strata covered in tropical corals in one period, followed by ice and rock in another. Then it repeated, at twelve-thousand year intervals. This sort of thing was also found many years later by Admiral Byrd in Antarctica. Also, prehistoric trees discovered in northern Norway had no rings. This could only be possible if these trees experienced no seasons, that is, having grown at the equator.

Why was this all covered up? asked Harvey.

Well, there was a report called The Adam and Eve Story by a Chan Thomas, who had CIA connections. His duty was to obfuscate the truth of this cyclical disaster. And he did a good job. His work was easily debunked which put an end to any attempts to study this further. He cleared his throat. At least publicly.

The poles flip due to the micronova energy? asked Harvey.

Yes. But first, the earth’s rotation stops, almost instantly causing all the oceans and large bodies of water in the world to head due east. We’re talking thousands of feet of water in some places heading over the land. Waves as high as some mountain ranges will sweep everything off the face of the earth. Then, the crust will separate from the low velocity zone mantle beneath, torquing it down ninety degrees so that the large land masses of Greenland and Antarctica will be at the equator.

"And this is why we’re heading for what was once Scott Base