Mobius Blvd: Stories from the Byway Between Reality and Dream No. 3 | January 2024: Mobius Blvd: Stories from the Byway Between Reality and Dream, #3

By Wayne Kyle Spitzer

There is a byway between reality and dream. A transit we call Möbius Blvd …

Inspired by the enigmatic Möbius strip, a mathematical construct that defies conventional notions of linearity and infinity, Möbius Blvd has no beginning or end but exists in a place where reality and dream have fused … coalesced … merged. With each turn of the page, you'll encounter a unique blend of horror, fantasy, and science-fiction—fiction that will challenge your perceptions and leave you in awe of the infinite possibilities that exist within the written word.

Indeed, Möbius Blvd is far more than a magazine; it's an experience. It's an exploration of the infinite, a passage through dimensions where the only constant is storytelling at its most daring, a kaleidoscope of wonder and terror. Join us on this winding, never-ending journey of speculative fiction that will keep you entranced from the first twist to the last loop. Open your mind to the limitless worlds of Möbius Blvd … and discover that the boundary between fiction and reality is as thin as a strip of paper with a twist.

In this issue:

THE NEXT STOP IS GRAND CENTRAL
Judith Pancoast

ARNOU THE PAINTER
Lawrence Buentello

IN THE DARK THERE IS A HAND
Michael Paul Kozlowsky

TOMATO KING
Nick Marsan

EPIPHANY FOR A FERRYMAN
Wayne Kyle Spitzer

ROAD STORY
Mike A. Rhodes

DECEMBER'S CAT
Michael Schulman

TALES FROM BEYOND THE MIRROR
Simina Lungu

THE MELLIFIED MAN
Dante Bilec

THE WINDOW
Gerald A. Jennings

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hobb's End Press
• Release date: Dec 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223719052

Wayne Kyle Spitzer

Wayne Kyle Spitzer (born July 15, 1966) is an American author and low-budget horror filmmaker from Spokane, Washington. He is the writer/director of the short horror film, Shadows in the Garden, as well as the author of Flashback, an SF/horror novel published in 1993. Spitzer's non-genre writing has appeared in subTerrain Magazine: Strong Words for a Polite Nation and Columbia: The Magazine of Northwest History. His recent fiction includes The Ferryman Pentalogy, consisting of Comes a Ferryman, The Tempter and the Taker, The Pierced Veil, Black Hole, White Fountain, and To the End of Ursathrax, as well as The X-Ray Rider Trilogy and a screen adaptation of Algernon Blackwood’s The Willows.

Book preview

CONTENTS

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THE NEXT STOP IS GRAND CENTRAL

Judith Pancoast

ARNOU THE PAINTER

Lawrence Buentello

IN THE DARK THERE IS A HAND

Michael Paul Kozlowsky

TOMATO KING

Nick Marsan

EPIPHANY FOR A FERRYMAN

Wayne Kyle Spitzer

ROAD STORY

Mike A. Rhodes

DECEMBER’S CAT

Michael Schulman

TALES FROM BEYOND THE MIRROR

Simina Lungu

THE MELLIFIED MAN

Dante Bilec

THE WINDOW

Gerald A. Jennings

THE NEXT STOP IS GRAND CENTRAL

Judith Pancoast

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This is the West Haven station. The next stop is Milford. Mind the gap when stepping out onto the platform.

The canned announcement woke Ginny from her restless slumber. The train rumbled along the tracks, past blighted landscapes of broken-down houses, warped, dilapidated buildings, and trash everywhere. Of course, the sun wasn’t shining on this worst of days. Ginny was going to New York, to be with her brothers as the life support was removed from their dying mother’s almost-corpse.

The sound of someone clearing their throat broke through the rumble of the train, and Ginny looked up to see a young man dressed all in black holding the hand of a tutu-clad young girl. They were standing just a few feet from her. They must have just gotten on at the West Haven stop.

Good afternoon folks, my name is Jamil, and this here is my sister Agatha. We was wondering if you good people might be willing to spare some of your change for us, so we can get us tickets to New York so Agatha might try out for dance school.

Ginny clutched her purse tightly as the girl broke into a manic dance, as though she were being shocked by a hundred electrodes. Her brother clapped, but it wasn’t on any kind of beat. Ginny looked around, but the other passengers were all absorbed in their phones, talking with each other, or dozing. Finally, the girl fell face-forward splat in the aisle, then she looked up, grinning, as blood spurted out of her nose. Now Ginny looked away.

No one clapped or said anything. Ginny kept looking out the window, hoping the pair would disappear. Then she felt the presence of someone close to her shoulder.

Hello Miss, that’s an awful nice bag you got there. You got any money in it for us?

Ginny looked up into the blood-smeared face of the little girl, who was grinning broadly, her rotten and broken teeth useless in holding back her fetid breath. It smelled like the long past the sell-by date meat Ginny had discovered when cleaning out her mother’s refrigerator.

I’m sorry, I, uh...

Get the fuck off the train!

Another youth, this one wearing a face mask and a green combat jacket, kicked the little girl so hard in the side that she flew out of Ginny’s sight. Her brother swung at the intruder, but he was no match. Two other boys had joined the first one, and they proceeded to pummel Jamil in the aisle, right next to Ginny’s seat. She squeezed her eyes shut and pushed herself against the window, wishing that Teddy had joined her on this trip. Why the hell couldn’t he be with her on this terrible day? A husband should be there at life’s major moments, but he had to work. He always had to work. She’d be lucky if he came to the funeral.

The pounding, grunting and groaning continued, but, strangely, no other passengers interceded or even made a sound. When the doors opened at the Milford station, the tussling teenagers took their fight out onto the platform, and the little girl followed.

The is the stop for Milford. The next stop is Heaven. Mind the gap when stepping onto the platform.

Ginny stared out the window, watching the still-fighting boys as the little girl performed her manic dance around them, her rainbow tutu looking like a child’s top.

When she couldn’t see them anymore, Ginny covertly scanned the train car, examining the other passengers. No one sat in the seat across the aisle from her, but in the seat in front of that was an old man, his head slumped. His pants and shoes looked like he’d pulled them out of a dump, and he wore a tattered sweater that was much too light for January in New England. Ginny wondered how he could even afford a train ticket.

Ginny snuck a look at the seat in the back of the empty one. In it sat two boys and a girl. Siblings? The two boys were clearly a few years older than the little girl, who was bouncing her feet and playing with a little doll. She started singing a tune that Ginny immediately recognized.

Oh jolly playmate, come out and play with me, and bring your dollies three, climb up my apple tree...

Shhh, said one of the boys. Be quiet. You’re bothering the other passengers. He looked up and glared straight at Ginny. She quickly turned away.

A woman with vermillion hair sat in front of her. She’d either used too much product on it or hadn’t washed it in weeks and it fell in greasy clumps. Ginny stared mindlessly. Then something very small and white wriggled out from beneath the hair and skittered across the woman’s head. Good Jesus! Lice!

Ginny pulled her coat around her and jumped up, frantically looking around for an empty seat. The seat across the aisle wasn’t far away enough. Who knew how far lice could jump? She pushed the connecting door open and heaved herself into the next car.

It was completely empty.

This is the Bridgeport station. The next stop is Fairfield Metro. Mind the gap when falling off the platform.

The canned announcement woke Ginny from her slumber. She’d been drooling on Teddy’s shoulder, and she wiped her mouth as she pulled away, embarrassed.

Oh, you came with me. I didn’t think you’d come, she mumbled.

What are you talking about? Of course, I came with you. You must’ve been dreaming.

No, I thought you had to work today.

Teddy bristled. What the hell are you talking about?

She twisted her purse strap and looked down. I thought you said I had to go alone, because you had some important phone call or something at work.  She yawned.

You’re out of it. Wake up. You know I haven’t worked in months.

Her hands worked at rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Then she looked straight at him and said, What are you talking about?

Ginny, get a grip on reality. They fired me remember? Human Resources at Plantheatic Pressurizing was the last department to be replaced by AI. Everybody’s out of work while the company struggles to come back from bankruptcy.

Oh, Ginny said. How could she have forgotten something so important? Everybody?

Yes, everybody. My father, Tim...

Tim lost his job?

Jesus, Ginny. Go back to sleep and wake up in reality. Yes, Tim lost his job. He and Noreen and the baby are moving in next week. What the hell is wrong with you? Did you take some Xanax before we boarded the train or what?

She felt lightheaded and slightly nauseous.  Xanax? Did she have a prescription for Xanax? She couldn’t remember why she would have such a thing.

She laid her head back on Teddy’s shoulder and closed her eyes again. Plantheatic Pressurizing, the source of all her problems, and all the problems in the world. The process—a high-speed method of growing corn in hours, not months—was going to revolutionize agribusiness and solve world hunger. It was quickly snatched up by a shady consortium of investors with suspected Russian ties, then, like an old cliché, costs were cut by using shoddy materials in factories and a series of accidents occurred. The whole thing went to hell.

She was lost in rehashing the whole debacle when it punched her in the gut, just like it had so many times over the past few days. They were going to say goodbye to Mom. Mom, who couldn’t face life after Daddy got caught in a biometric implosion chamber at a job site last month. Mom, who’d swallowed a whole bunch of Oxys and chased it with a bottle of Manischewitz; was now lying in an irreversible coma at Lenox Hill. The doctors said she’d never come out of it. Her brothers had made the decision because she was too damned upset to do anything. They were going to ‘pull the plug’ on Mom, as they said. Then she could be with Daddy.

She couldn’t think about this anymore. She wanted to go back to sleep.

This is the stop for South Norwalk. The next stop is Hades. Wave to us as you fall out of the car.

Ginny blasted awake as though bursting through a paper wall. Where the hell was she?

On a train. Oh yes. The train she’d taken so many times to visit Mom and Daddy in New York. Now she was going to visit Mom for the last time, and she was all alone. Teddy had to work. Teddy wouldn’t dream of taking a day off for something as minor as his wife killing her only mother. Teddy was a big important guy at Plantheatic Pressurizing, and they were now running the whole goddam country so he couldn’t possibly take a little private time to be with his wife.

A baby burst into tears. Ginny looked at the seat across the aisle to see Timmy and his wife, Noreen, holding their six-month-old baby girl. What was her name? Carina? Corrina? Corrine? Why couldn’t she remember the name of her only granddaughter?

Ginny reached her arms across the aisle. Do you want me to take her? Nana knows how to calm a crying baby.

Noreen clutched the baby tight and looked at Tim, who leaned across his wife and stared at Ginny.

Leave us alone, please.  We got this.

Ginny was confused. But Timmy, Noreen, let me hold her. I can give you a break.

Noreen whispered something in Tim’s ear, and they both slid out of their seats. Noreen slid back in with the baby, taking the window seat, but before Tim sat down he leaned toward Ginny and say, Look lady, you need to mind your own business. You know, the dying business? We have to keep on living here.

What are you...?

The train ground to a halt. The passengers jostled about, briefcases and hats falling to the floor. Ginny hit the seat in front of her face first.

The next stop is Grand Central. This is your final stop. Please don’t let the door hit you on the way out.

Ginny woke up and saw Tim and Noreen standing above her.

Where am I? Why am I lying down?

She tried to speak, but nothing worked. She was unable to vocalize, move her lips, move her hands or feet, but the scream filled her brain and reverberated around her skull.

I’m sorry Mom. I’m so sorry, Timmy said, as tears poured down his face. Noreen leaned into him, holding his arm tight.

I...I don’t know if you can hear me, but the doctors said this is the right thing to do. And Father Barry said you’ll be with Daddy in Heaven now. Oh, God, Mom. Why’d you had to do it? Why’d you have to take all those pills? You would’ve been all right. You could have moved in with us after the factory imploded. We would have taken care of you. Mom.... Timmy’s voice dissolved into wracking sobs.

Ginny heard someone say, It’s time.

This is the stop for Heaven, or Hell, or maybe nothing. Who knows? Don’t worry about the gap.

This time, Ginny didn’t wake up.

ARNOU THE PAINTER

Lawrence Buentello

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Perrin Veilleaux had been called from Lyon to attend his estranged brother, Arnou, who had gained a deserved reputation as one of the most inspired artists in the country. Perrin felt surprised to receive the cable, since he hadn’t spoken to his brother for many years, as his own reputation as a calculating man of business belied his brother’s saintly disposition among his patrons. But even though he’d always resented the impression that the one brother walked in God’s light while the other traveled most comfortably in humanity’s shadow, he couldn’t help but be disturbed by the report, curtly described in the cable, that his