A Brief Bit of Insanity
Miko / M A Davis
sort of original, sort of AMG, sort of other stuff
In early August 1999 I took a trip with my friends Sky
Rigdon and Jeffrey Cornish, and Jeri Lynn, down I-5 to the
Oregon Caves. We ate at a Carl's Jr. in Grant's Pass, and we
stayed the night at the Oregon Caves Lodge.
I plotted this story afterwards, but it is not about us. It is a
work of fiction... a very silly work of fiction. The people in
this story bear no resemblance to my friends, or myself which
is a really good thing if you want my opinion. I've gone well
out of my way to make sure that they don't resemble us in the
least.
I have seven very short chapters plotted and partially
written, and I hope to be able to finish and post one chapter
every day until this is done. This is just for fun, although I
hope someone out there actually finds this drivel entertaining.
Critique if you like, I don't mind, it makes me a better writer,
but I don't plan to revise this particular piece of fluff in any
major way.
As for Muyami Academy, I'm working on it, really I am!
Act I: Place Your Call
Jordan De Carvalho's Toyota Tercell began to belch steam
and smoke as they approached Grant's Pass. He took the next
exit and rolled to a stop in the parking lot of a Carl's Jr.
restaurant. Clouds of white steam spilled out from under the
hood, and the temperature gauge was well into the red.
Kit Haskins, a lanky young man with dirty-blond hair,
took a bite of the banana in his hand. He chewed it slowly,
swallowed, and said:
"Dude, there's something seriously wrong with your car."
"So I noticed," Jordan replied.
"You should, like, stop and get it fixed," Kit added. He
took another bite from his banana.
Jordan sighed and got out of the car. He popped the hood
and lifted it, sending huge clouds of steam up into the evening
sky. People inside the restaurant were staring at him and
laughing, he was certain of it. He ran one hand through his
short black hair, shoved his thick glasses back up his nose, and
placed his hands on his hips.
Jordan was a good driver, but when it came to car repairs,
he knew as much as a snail knows about hang gliding.
Kit climbed out of the passenger side and stretched. He
stared at the hissing, steam-engulfed engine, then scratched his
stomach through the fabric of his black tee shirt. The logo on
the front was for the band Korn.
"Bogus," he said.
"You know anything about cars?" Jordan asked.
"I know that yours is hosed," Kit replied. He finished his
banana and tossed the peel onto the passenger seat.
Kit wasn't the brightest star in the sky, Jordan reflected.
In fact, in terms of luminosity, he was more like a black hole.
He soaked up intelligence in such a way that it never got back
out.
Shawn Stacey, their mutual friend, climbed out of the
back seat. It was kind of like watching jelly ooze through a
small crack. Shawn was a very large man, and most of that
mass was not muscle.
Shawn took one look at the steaming engine, and his eyes
bugged out.
"Oh man, what are we going to do?" he asked. "We can't
get stuck here in Grant's Pass! I have to be back at work on
Monday! If I don't show up, I'll lose my job, and then I won't
be able to pay my bills and my landlady will kick me out,
and...."
"Shawn," Jordan said.
"...and I won't be able to upgrade my computer, and I'll
lose my online service, and the phone company will disconnect
me, and the cable company will...."
"SHAWN!" Jordan said, "we are NOT going to get stuck
in Grant's Pass. It's just an engine problem, probably a broken
hose or something. I'll just check the yellow pages and call a
repair shop. We've still got plenty of time to get to the Oregon
Caves, okay?"
"Man, this is completely bogus," Kit said. "Stuck in
Grant's Pass. Hey, well, at least we can get some good eats,
right?"
"Good luck finding a repair service in a nowhere town on
a Saturday night," Shawn muttered, lighting up a cigarette.
"This place is a dump. We should have stayed in Seattle."
Jordan didn't bother to reply. He headed to the nearby
phone booth.
In the back seat, the fourth and final member of their
group, Marika Kieran, opened her eyes. She looked about,
blinked, yanked off her CD headphones and sat up slowly.
"Are we there yet?" she asked. "Wow, that was fast!"
***
"What I need is a Dr. Pepper," Shawn said. "I can't drink
this cola garbage. I hate cola. I hate rootbeer. I hate Mountain
Dew. Why don't they have Dr. Pepper here anyway? They've
got everything else."
"They said they were out," Marika replied.
The four were standing around Jordan's dead Tercell,
eating hamburgers and waiting for Jordan to locate an open
repair shop. He had the yellow pages from the phone booth
open in front of him, and was placing call after call on his
cellular phone. So far, he'd struck out. He had yet to even
speak to a live human being.
A huge white tee shirt covered Shawn's expansive upper
body, with a hand-painted picture of Lum-chan on the front,
sans top. The others were always a little embarrassed when he
wore that shirt in public. As usual, he was whining and
complaining as much as possible, while chain-smoking a pack
of cigarettes.
"That's what they said," Shawn continued. "I think it's a
conspiracy. The whole world is out to make my life miserable.
I'm stuck in a nowhere town with no way out and there's no Dr.
Pepper and I'm not going to get back to work by Monday and
my boss is going to fire me and...."
"SHAWN, SHUT UP!" Jordan growled. "I'm trying to
talk on the phone here!"
The other three grew quiet. Jordan was the unofficial
leader of the group, simply because he was less geeky or
neurotic than the other three. Which was unfortunately not
saying very much. He was the only one not wearing a tee shirt,
but instead had a nice button-down shirt of brick red, a rugged
casual shirt such as you might find at Eddie Bauer.
Sometimes, it seemed that his somewhat more professional
clothing was the biggest thing that separated him from the
other three.
Jordan's eyes lit up.
"Hello?" he said. "Yes? I'm looking for a repair shop that
can help me fix my car... no, I don't know what's wrong with
it... probably a broken radiator hose or something... oh, I'm
sorry, I thought you were a repair shop. No, no problem.
Okay, thanks."
He hung up the phone and began dialing another number.
"They just sell parts," he muttered. "If I knew for sure what
was wrong, and how to fix it...."
Marika looked about at the tree-covered hills, just barely
visible in the fading light. The sky to the west still glowed red
and orange, but the sun had already slipped below the horizon.
She wore a tee shirt as well... oversized, and dyed a dark
green. There was a complicated Celtic knotwork design on the
front, with a dragon at the center of the design. Marika was
part Irish, and liked Celtic music and ornamentation. She
could pass for a normal girl, until you started to talk animation
with her. Then you realized how tied up she was in anime
fandom... working at a comic shop that specialized in anime
and manga, treasurer for the largest local anime club, a member
of the local anime convention concom, and an active fan fiction
writer into the bargain. After just a short conversation with
her, you learned how fully and completely she defined the
word "obsessed".
"Well, at least it's a pretty place," she said. "I can think of
worse places to get stuck in."
"Like?" Shawn asked.
Marika looked thoughtful. "Provo, for one," she said.
"Nogales. Mobile."
Shawn snorted. "Your family's moved around a lot,
haven't they?" Marika nodded. He lit up another cigarette and
puffed nervously. "Do you think there are any wild animals
out here?" he asked.
"Quiet!" Jordan hissed. He held the phone to his ear
again. "Yes? I'm looking for a repair shop... what? Is that
your name? I thought this was Nelson's Auto Repair... oh, you
are? Great! We're at the... hello? Hello?"
He stared at the phone, then at his friends.
"That was weird," he said. "Sounded like a young girl.
She said they were sending someone right over, but she didn't
even ask where we were. Something about a 'Goddess
Emergency Relief Agency' or somesuch."
"You're right," Marika said. "That does sound weird.
Like a line from Ah! My Goddess." Her eyes lit up. "Hey,
wouldn't that be cool?"
As if in answer, something -- smoke? light? -- started to
spill from the passenger side mirror. Marika "eeped" and
stumbled back, while the other three turned and stared.
The misty, milky substance swirled about and coalesced
into the form of a girl.
She was short -- several inches short of five feet tall -- and
had bright green hair, tied into two long braids. She wore an
elaborate off-the-shoulder dress of white, with multiple layers
and symbols in a light silver stitched along the hem and edges.
Silver crescent-moons hung from her ears and around her neck,
and blue-silver crescents were also painted or tattooed on each
cheek and on her forehead.
She was floating six inches above the concrete.
She bowed low and said, "Good evening! My name is
Clotho. I'm from the Goddess Emergency Relief Agency, and
I'm here to grant you your wish."
to be continued tomorrow