Chimerical Short Stories

By Maynard Fuggent

These uniquely structured stories hail from distinct historical eras. Each story reflects a common human struggle and cause, should one look within:

1. one of two sisters envisions Goblins
2. a Jewish man's mind incessantly whispering war atrocities 
3. suspicion hides in a simple cup of tea
4. naive royal twins are tricked into becoming witches
5. a pregnant woman in an elevator helps cure a male germaphobe
6. an albino slave baby is lost in Great Britain in 1700

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maynard Fuggent
• Release date: Jan 13, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224991440

Maynard Fuggent

Maynard's self-awareness and understanding of psychology transcend 40 years. 6 years of German culture expanded his love of storytelling. He speaks some Spanish and German. He was pub. in Spotlight On Recovery magazine - an online therapeutic publication in NY. Author Maynard writes literary stories. Present title: Dr Henrietta Murray - novel. He writes with observance of sociology and mindfulness that observes thinking and behaviour, an action which addresses the causes of division, fear, and social conflict. These aspects liven his diverse fictional characters by which social issues are resolved. Maynard strongly feels that the reality of life is realized by taking inner fundamental action.

Book preview

GOBLINS

by Maynard Fuggent

In Northern Scandinavia , near the Black Sea, indigenous people believed in the age of deities, myth and dark, mysterious magic. Inherent to the region and ancient heritage, the Sainthood Monastery symbolised early faith, reflected in the primitive structure and design with stone pillars, whereupon each stood a Goblin sculpture facing a sphere of the earth's horizon.

IN THE PULPIT SAT VATER Kunst, and before him, Vater Werner II stood and welcomed prospective members from Nord Wurstberg into a House of God and congregation: among the mass, Herr Adolf Schmidt, his wife, and their five-year-old daughter, Marie Anne; five-year-old Klaus Werner, his brother, Günther, and their mother, Helga (Mutti). Behind them (rows back) sat the Hertz family: Hans, his wife, Ute, and their six-year-old son, Gottfried. That fine morning, Vater Werner II devoted the message to 'healing conflict between Christians and Pagans, divisive beliefs, and the persistence of human destiny.'

At the close of services, Herr Adolf Schmidt approached Vater Werner and proclaimed, in short,

Vater Werner, no offence, but we have travelled south to escape judgment from the Nord Christians, who claim repentance but still covet sins. Bless you, for the Christian acceptance—as Pagans, we have the right to live within our beliefs and traditions. We accept the black arts as a reality to which Christians are opposed. However, you preached, 'Be aware that destiny prevails and persists, at times, in a manner inconsistent with scripture.' I wonder how that insight came to you. Herr Schmidt grinned and withdrew.

WIZARD BY THE LAKE

Through time, Vater Klaus Werner replaced his Vater in the pulpit. On the holy ground, Vater Klaus raised Evelyn and Bertha, twins once abandoned as infants, on the entrance steps of the monastery. Bestowed into such a condition, the sisters believed in the ways of Christianity.

When matured and allowed liberties, the sisters ventured along the shadowy forest trails or frolicked in the calm Schwarzwald See (Lake). One day, they fled the lake and ran inside the monastery office; breathing heavily, they imported to Vater Werner that a Wizard wished communication with him, his brother!?! Vater Werner admitted having a brother but denounced black magic for its transformation of his brother. Thereby, by the division of faiths, the brothers had lived estranged for many mortal years.

Henceforth, Vater Werner warned the girls, We Christians do not speak of or believe in black magic and Wizards—that is the talk and belief of Pagans! To speak of it is heresy and should never be repeated or praised.

It happened through the years: beliefs divided the siblings; thus, in private, they debated—for Evelyn had been transformed by the magical, fantastical words of the Wizard that opposed the beliefs of Bertha, Vater Werner, and Christian scripture. Hence, it occurred for years into womanhood that the loving sisters seldom spoke.

MORTAL MISCHIEF

Vater Werner closed the monastery to pursue a cure, for the writ of illness had forced the congregation into isolation and Evelyn's exit from the shared room into another on the same floor, leaving Bertha alone.

On the first day of the week, Vater Werner and apprentice Tomas departed for Rosenheim, leaving the twins alone. Vater Werner, aware the disease progressed into madness and death, had promised a cure by the next Sabbath.

Here directly, developments after the departure of Vater Werner:

Feeling ill, Bertha lay in bed, and Evelyn, seated in the hallway, read the Bible. Distressed, Bertha knew the interruption would irritate her sister.

Evelyn, dear, are you there? Forgive me for—The tea! I must pee and cannot reach the pan. Please, hurry. How helpless she felt.

You should not have pushed it so far underneath! Evelyn scolded angrily.

Nevertheless, I cannot reach it. Quickly, or I shall soil my gown and sheets, and you will have me clean them.

With great loathing, Evelyn stood, loudly dropped the Bible on the chair, and picked up the meter-long root stick leaned against the wall. With keys kept about her neck, Evelyn unlocked the door and entered. Bertha observed the stick with great concern.

Disciples of the Devil cannot be trusted! And none of your trickery! Or I shall put wood to skin and bone! Now, be still. Evelyn warned while stooping and pulling out the pan. Bertha sat up obediently while Evelyn stood at the foot of the bed, leaned the root stick against the wall, and untied the rope about her sister's right ankle (the left ankle chained to the bedpost). Bertha watched the rope slacken and hurriedly slid from the bed, pulled up her gown, lowered her knickers, and squatted above the bedpan.

Evelyn surveyed the nightstand positioned at the head of the bed, on which lay an aged silver tray, a pan of water, empty vials, stained spoon, teacup, pot beneath a damp towel, and an armoire behind her. When done, Bertha stood, pulled up her knickers, and let fall the gown, at which Evelyn pulled the rope taut and forced Bertha back into bed. With the rope secured, Evelyn retrieved the root stick and stood at Bertha's bedside.

Do as I say—lie on your hands. Upon Bertha's forehead, Evelyn cautiously laid her palm and, with her thumb, pulled down Bertha's left cheek and inspected the exposed tissue within the eye socket. The Devil cannot hide from me! the siblings stared at each other.

Devil!?! Evelyn, do you still not recognise me!?! You— she altered an insult, I know how you are. Have you been taking your medication as Vater instructed? Bertha, never so timid, beseeched but could only stare as Evelyn picked up the tray and left the room. For fear of reprisal, Bertha withheld any protest as the door closed and locked.

IT TRANSPIRED THAT an irregular number of candles graced the table and kitchen countertops, which fed the illusions—Down in the damp cellar, beneath the earth's roots, cauldrons filled with human limbs and liquids summoned the Wizard from the fringes of darkness and light. In great anticipation, Evelyn paced and stared at the ceiling, calling for him.

Oh, great Wizard! Come! I have prepared schwein soup for you! The lone sibling cried. I know! You may refuse my mortal folly! Kindling blazed and water boiled. Oh, wise Wizard! I believe in the mystic arts! Hear me, a mere mortal, and grant me—oh!! Evelyn slunk to the floor and gazed up at the ceiling and the gap below the door, under which smoke crawled, lifted, and collected at the ceiling, from which lightning flickered and struck the walls. Evelyn stared, transfixed by the magnificence!

Of a sudden, the door opened, and there stood a man she recognised, but delirium hath no rational. Welcome! Sir! Evelyn fawned and studied him at length—her conscious came wonderfully alert and envisioned Herr Baum, the old groundskeeper, a dim-witted fatty fellow of low intelligence, puffed lobs below the eyes, hairless head, hairy body draped in burlap, and a rope clung about the waist.

What are you doing on the floor, good lady? He noted Bertha's absence. Is she so ill that breakfast is taken in her room?

Conversely, Bertha heard muddled voices and dared not miss the chance of rescue, and, thus, she pounded on the walls and shouted, to which Evelyn stood and remarked,

Ha! Do you hear that, Wizard!?! her finger thrust towards the ceiling. It is far ghastlier than illness. Go and see why I've summoned you! One of your incantations shall ease her agony. Go! Evelyn took several steps towards the hallway.

Dear woman, it is a mortal's doing to suffer. And you did not summon me. I'm merely late for breakfast. I urge that you wait for Vater Werner's return. Surely, he's given instructions. His manner dismissive. Is that boar soup? He plopped his bum in the chair and soothed his chafed hands.

Evelyn acknowledged and contemplated the Wizard's motives.

Be quick with that bowl, good lady. It's quite frigid this morning. His body shuddered.

I suppose you know best. Evelyn stepped before the stove, filled a bowl to the rim, and placed it before him. She observed him before a favourable confession. Last night, she attacked me while I slept; that is why she is tied and shackled to the bed. She nodded once.

Bowl in hand, he leaned back and inhaled the aroma. Mmm! Well, nothing like a stern piece of rope to earn a sister's love.

I changed my quarters, as well. Evelyn deliberately stood before him that her face and bodily countenance might persuade him. You will at least look at my dear suffering sister, will you not? Oh, what a sweet, pitiful tone she uttered.

As I've suggested, wait for Vater Werner's return—and by Zeus, stay out of mischief! His finger dislodged particles of boar from between teeth and cheek. "Really, what am I to do? Magic is no