Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Little Paw the Schizophrenic Teddy Bear Repairs Radios for the FBI

Hello All:
I was contacted over the weekend by a reader, and asked if the third book of Amber had been completed. You see, this person just finished reading Sex Magick and wanted to continue along. Unfortunately, I've got a considerable amount of writing to do before the third book of Amber is completed and published.
We exchanged a few messages, and I spoke of some of the events that I've experienced in my life to inspire the scenes in my books. And I think those moments with one of my readers was just the medicine I needed to get moving on House of Witches (the third book of Amber). Since then, I've written three new chapters and am back on a roll!
It's my goal--nearly a promise--to have House of Witches available to the public by late summer / early autumn of this year.
Little Paw, the Schizophrenic Teddy Bear has returned to the Literary World of Tom Raimbault. Let's join him in one of this adventures in which he is hired by the FBI to repair their radios.
Little Paw the Schizophrenic Teddy Bear  Repairs Radios for the FBI
It was a warm, summer night as Little Paw slept soundly in his room. But he was soon awoken by a summoning voice. "Little Paw! Little Paw; wake up!"
The cub sat up, rubbed his eyes and looked around. There was no one in the room, and Momma and Papa Bear were sound asleep. Perhaps he was only dreaming.
His head gently hit the pillow in a wish to nod off to dreamland, but the summoning voice returned. "Little Paw! Don't go to sleep!"
"Who's there?" The cub was startled and nearly terrified.
The voice seemed to come from the bedside radio. "Little Paw! I am the leader of the FBI and I'm speaking to you through your radio. We have a very important job for you, provided you accept. We've been watching you for some time and have decided that you would be the perfect candidate for our FBI radio repair person... er... teddy bear. Would you be interested?"
Little Paw's eyes opened wide with a beaming smile. Would he be interested in such a duty? Little Paw would be honored and gladly accepted the challenge.
But it was necessary to test the cub as the voice continued, "Secret agents have put one of our radios in your neighbor's garbage can. It looks like any other ordinary radio, but it receives FBI communication. If you successfully retrieve this radio, then you have passed the first part of our test. And if you can repair the radio, you will have passed the test entirely and will be designated our official FBI Radio Repair Agent.
Little Paw certainly couldn't awaken Momma and Papa Bear, asking permission to retrieve the radio. What if they said no? This would lead to failing the test and he couldn’t land the job as FBI Radio Repair Agent. It was easier to crawl out the bedroom window, into the night, and over to his neighbor's garbage can. And just as the leader of the FBI mentioned, there was a radio waiting for repair.
Back to his house, through his bedroom window, Little Paw was safe and had passed the first test. He hid the radio under the bed and crawled back under the covers. Tomorrow he could examine the radio and hopefully get it to work.
"Little Paw! What are you doing? Why are you sleeping? The FBI needs that radio and you agreed to fix it! You are someone who backs down on his word. You are worthless and cannot be trusted!” The voice called out through the bedside radio. Apparently, the FBI had an advanced technology that was able to send signals through Little Paw's bedroom electric outlet that would monitor his activities. This was serious business, and it was best to begin the evaluation of the FBI radio right away!
Little Paw worked the night; all the while he was under careful watch by the FBI, and spoken to via the bedside radio. They wanted to make sure the cub did everything correctly. FBI radios are serious, and there can be no tolerance for errors!
By dawn, Little Paw had discovered a simple problem with the radio. The wire that connected the exterior antenna to the interior circuit board had been cut. He simply used electric tape to restore the connection, and the radio, once again, worked.
Again, the radio wasn't much different from what one might have on a bedside table. But it had the ability to receive FBI broadcasts. Little Paw listened carefully for a few minutes and overheard a portion of a broadcast that contained FBI secrets about the government.
The voice from the leader of the FBI became outraged.” Little Paw! What are you doing? You are not to listen to FBI secrets; it is forbidden!"
He didn't mean any harm; the cub was only curious, and hopefully the FBI would forgive him. Little Paw unplugged the radio and hid it in the bedroom closet. Soon he would receive instructions of where to deliver the radio so secret agents could retrieve it.
Time passed, and Little Paw continued to receive additional jobs from the FBI. The plan was consistent: crawl out his bedroom window at night, locate the radio and bring it back into his bedroom where the evaluation process could be done. Some nights he didn't wait for a mission to be given. Little Paw simply crawled out the window and searched for the FBI radios without prior instruction. The leader of the FBI must have been proud of the official Radio Repair Agent, who exhibited the qualities of a proactive operative. But the cub never received instructions of where to deliver the repaired radios. His bedroom closet was building up a collection, and there was no way to hide them.
One day, Momma Bear asked, "Little Paw, why are all of these radios in your closet?" She discovered the collection of radios and was most curious. Her cub was expected to always tell the truth, no matter how difficult the truth might be.
Little Paw realized that his job was top secret. But he couldn’t lie to Momma Bear. The words ran off his tongue, "Those are the radios that I fix for the FBI." He was in a state of disbelief. Did he really divulge his secret job to Momma Bear?
"Oh, you fix these radios for the FBI?" Momma Bear chuckled. "Honey, that's wonderful! Do you actually get them to work?"
Little Paw watched in horror as Momma Bear plugged one of the radios in the electric outlet. He yelled out, "Momma, no! You're not supposed to listen to FBI secrets! It's forbidden!"
Momma Bear was understanding of her cub. "Don't worry; I won't listen. I just want to see if it works."
Unfortunately, while Momma Bear checked to see if the radio worked, Little Paw overheard a brief notice about the President of the United States meeting with extraterrestrials later in the week. It was already too much information! And the leader of the FBI could be heard clearing his throat through Little Paw's bedside radio.
Momma Bear turned the radio off and put it back in the closet. "Well that's wonderful, honey! Papa will be so proud of you! Maybe some day you can have a job as a radio repair person." She was so happy that her cub could now play and have an active imagination. The medicine truly was working; Little Paw was finally a normal teddy bear. But Momma Bear couldn't help but wonder where all those radios came from. There must have been 20 in that closet; old walkmans, clock radios, boom boxes and even transistor radios from the days long past.
The disrespect for FBI confidential broadcasts on Momma Bear’s part triggered curiosity for the bear cub. What if there was a way to listen to FBI secrets without the leader of the FBI’s knowledge? Could he shroud his invasion from the watchful eyes through electric outlets? All it would require is to be away from the bedroom outlets—any outlets—and Little Paw would be safe. But how and where were the questions that burned and continued to agitate the teddy bear’s curiosity.
One day, he made a discovery that might very well have made that desire a reality. The bedroom closet contained over two-dozen radios waiting for delivery to the FBI. Many of them were battery powered which meant they could be used in a place where electric outlets were unavailable. Coincidentally, the very closet that stored the radios did not have an electric outlet! He could sneak through the door and listen to the FBI secrets. And to prevent the sounds of the radio being overheard by the leader of the FBI, Little Paw could plug a pair of headphones into one of the radios and listen until his heart was content.
It would require much thought and speculation. What were the consequences? Could he get caught? And what could he do with such information? Perhaps he could sell FBI secrets to enemy countries. Little Paw once heard that espionage was a financially rewarding lifestyle. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that the FBI had never paid him for his services.
One night, after dinner, Little Paw opened up one of his toys and removed a 9 volt battery. He did this with extreme caution, as if not to let prying eyes from the electric outlets see. The leader of the FBI was most likely intelligent and could detect Little Paw’s intention to invade FBI confidentiality. He opened the bedroom closet door, pretending to look for a shirt to wear. Then he quickly slipped through the door and shut it behind him.
Once in the dark, he pulled a penlight from his pocket to examine the collection of radios. A small radio that used a 9 volt battery for DC power looked promising. Plus it included a headphone jack to accommodate the pair that Little Paw had in his back pocket. A quick clip of the 9 volt battery, connection to the headphone and flip of the switch “on”; Little Paw was now in the violation zone, listening very carefully to every FBI broadcast. In one report, it was mentioned that the FBI now held the technology to observe what every home in America was doing via television sets. Unsuspecting citizens were unaware of the camera-like devices installed behind the screens of their TVs. Needless to say, the teddy bear cub was frightened upon hearing this. The FBI was probably observing Momma and Papa Bear each night while they watched TV. Perhaps they knew that Momma and Papa Bear ate honey late at night!
Frightened, he turned the radio off, pulled the battery and put it away. But just before the cub left, he heard a voice coming from the light fixture in his closet. Unbeknown to him, the FBI had seen everything through the closet light fixture, in much the same way they could see through the electric outlets in his room.
The angry voice announced, “Little Paw, I told you not to listen to FBI secrets on the FBI radios! It is forbidden! Now you are in big trouble!”
Oh no! What was Little Paw going to do now? Terrified, the cub had no choice but to run out of his room and tell Momma and Papa Bear everything. He even informed them of how the FBI was watching through the living room TV. Then he reminded, “Turn it off Papa! They can see us!”
Of course Momma and Papa Bear were very concerned. Why was their little cub suddenly having a relapse?
“Little Paw, have you been taking your medicine?” Momma Bear was quick to look in Little Paw’s bottle of pills. Sure enough, he had missed many days worth of medication. Of course! The FBI certainly wouldn’t recruit a teddy bear to repair their radios. As for watching her and Papa Bear through the TV: hopefully that wasn’t true! They might see her eating all that honey late at night, and… well, let’s just say that Momma Bear didn’t have the same figure from 10 years ago, and neither did Papa Bear!
Little Paw was immediately given a pill along with a nice cup of relaxing, chamomile tea. He was tucked into bed and reminded to always take his medicine.
Papa Bear collected all the radios from Little Paw’s bedroom closet and brought them out to the trash. “There! If the FBI doesn’t want my cub listening to their broadcasts, they can pick the radios up in the trash where they belong!” Nobody messes with Little Paw, nobody!
The End!

Monday, January 26, 2015

The Interrogation

Hello All:
Check out the new artwork by my youngest daughter. It was one of those school projects that was graded and made its way back home. I wouldn't dare allow her or my wife to throw it out. The picture is now mounted on one of the walls in my cubicle.
Obviously the picture is that of numerous cats. But look at the bottom center. What sort of creatures are those?
Certainly not cats!
Without further delay, I bring you the Cableman's interrogation. In case this your first time checking in, I strongly encourage you to get familiarized with the Cableman series of short stories before reading today's featured writing. You would get lost without doing so!
  1. Alien Language
  2. A Lover from Sirius
  3. A Tour of Starship Athena
  4. Pleiadian Kissing
  5. The Temple of Sirius
  6. Orthon's Shoeprint
  7. Death Update
  8. The Return of Drax
  9. Algiz:

The Interrogation
Recall from last week’s story that the Cableman had been forced out of his flying saucer by his next door neighbor, Agent Lynn, and two other federal agents (assumedly the two men who moved in with her.) The Cableman was aware of the peculiarity of their sudden presence, and quickly learned that they were federal agents. He eventually surmised that the small crew was on a mission to carefully watch him. Now they seized him in the riding car of the underground pneumatic tube, and escorted into a secret conference room for interrogation. Although Agent Lynn reassured the Cableman that he wasn't under arrest, he was trapped and practically forced to answer their questions.
Agent Lynn continued with her interrogation, "You have a flying saucer parked on your deck outside that you just flew over here to access one of the classified pneumatic tubes. And how did you get a military license to access these?"
"Orthon gave it to me?" answered the Cableman.
"Orthon? Who's Orthon?" asked one of the men standing beside the Cableman. "Is he the leader of your home planet?"
"No, he's one of the corporate managers of our cable company."
"Ah... he's a corporate manager." commented Agent Lynn.
Just then, Agent Lynn's Android device sounded a text message alert. She briefly checked the message and then looked up at the Cableman. "Those Draconians that you were chasing have been stopped by police. They were trying to break into the locked entrance doors at the visitor’s center of NIST. It looks like you were onto some sinister plan of theirs. Now, who is this Orthon, and who are you working with? I just need this information for our data base. Are you a federal agent like us?"
"No, I'm just a cable TV installer. My corporate manager, Orthon, gave me the license to access these pneumatic tubes so I can get my power meter calibrated each morning at NIST. I guess I was worried about the Drax going there to steal or vandalize it. I had to stop them."
"And how did you know about them?" asked Agent Lynn.
"They went into Naugles and announced that they were going to do it."
Agent Lynn sighed. "Alright, you're not being very cooperative. You're hiding something from us. You expect us to believe that the Drax walked into a random Mexican restaurant where you happen to eat lunch, and announced that they were going to steal some equipment at NIST in Boulder, Colorado?"
"And where did you get your UFO?" asked one of the men standing beside the Cableman.
"I built it. I guess I wanted to impress my girlfriend who is into UFOs and aliens. And as I found out, it's nice to get around in."
“The saucy, little Mexican who wears Sergio Valente jeans?” asked Agent Lynn. “Is that the one?”
The Cableman paused for a split second and then remembered that he had been followed by Agent Lynn earlier that week, and was seen outside the shopping mall. “No, I built it for my ex-girlfriend before we broke up. The girl you saw is my new girlfriend.”
Agent Lynn next asked, “So this ex-girlfriend of yours; what’s her name? Is she the leader of a UFO cult and the mastermind behind all of this?”
The Cableman suddenly wished he hadn't mentioned Melissa. She was, after all, the one who inducted him into space brotherhood and continued to train him on Starship Athena each night. The Cableman had to protect all of his friends; those who believed they were incarnates from distant stars. Really, they were peaceful people who meant well. It was the Drax that needed to be stopped.
"I think I'm going to plead the fifth amendment." stated the Cableman.
"I see..." answered Agent Lynn."So you’re protecting her. You still have feelings for her.” She sighed while reaching for a handbag that sat on the table. “I'm afraid you leave us with no other option." From the bag she pulled out a large hypodermic needle.
"WHOA!" exclaimed the Cableman as he tried to stand up.
But the men who stood beside him both held the Cableman down. "Relax, Mr. Cableman. It won't hurt you. It's just a needle."
The Cableman nearly screamed in terror, "I don't like needles! I'm going to pass out! I don't even know what all of this is about. Why have you detained me?"
Agent Lynn slowly and cautiously approached with the hypodermic needle. "I'm sorry, Cableman. You leave me with no other choice."
"What's in it??? Please don't kill me!!! I'll answer all of your questions!!!"
"I know you will." answered Agent Lynn. "And there are no drugs or chemicals in here. It's just a nano-sized chip to enable tracking. You're not being cooperative, and we need to be able to find you when needed."
Both men nearly laid on top of the Cableman in an effort to hold him in his seat. Keep in mind that the Cableman's arms were secured behind his back with zip ties. Fighting with them was useless. It would have only resulted in pulled shoulder muscles or other injuries.
"It'll be quick" reassured one of the men. "She shoots it the skin of your arm..."
There was a sharp sting in the Cableman's shoulder, followed by a warm sensation. It was the last thing the Cableman remembered before passing out.
"Wow, is he ever squeamish!" exclaimed Agent Lynn.
"He'll come around in a couple of minutes." commented one of the men. "In fact, maybe we should drag him out to his UFO."
"No, just leave him sit here for a few minutes." said Agent Lynn. "We'll escort him out when he comes to, and make sure he is okay to fly off."
A minute later, the Cableman lifted his head off the table.
"Are you okay, Mr. Cableman?" asked one of the men while patting his back.
The other added, "See, that wasn't so bad, was it? There were no drugs or chemicals. You've just been tagged. I've been tagged, Agent Scott has been tagged [it was the first time the Cableman learned the name of one of the men], and Agent Lynn has been tagged as well. You play your cards right, maybe you'll become federal agents like us."
Agent Lynn now held her Android device and examined the screen. "Okay, it's working. I've got a fix on his location. He's right here with us—according to the monitor."
The Cableman sighed. "This has to be illegal. I'm no criminal! I've done nothing wrong!"
"Well, he's doing better, now." pointed out Agent Scott. "Let's escort him back to his spaceship and let him go."
The Cableman was pulled out of his seat and guided out of the conference room where he was escorted down the narrow corridor to the riding car of the underground pneumatic tube.
"Are you sure you're going to be okay to fly?" asked Agent Lynn.
"I'm fine..." answered the Cableman.
"We're going to cut the zip ties, but don't try anything stupid." warned the nameless agent. "We still have our firearms."
"Don't I get to know your name?" asked the Cableman with a smirk.
"How about that, Agent Barry? He wants to know your name." teased Agent Scott.
The zip ties were cut, and the Cableman's hands were now free.
Agent Lynn asked, "Now do you want to go to Boulder, Colorado, or do you want to just go back to work now that you know the Drax were arrested?"
"I think I better go back to work." answered the Cableman.
Agent Barry announced, "Okay, we'll open the rear door and you can back out. I guess you’re free to use the pneumatic tubes any time you want. Just remember we’ll always be watching you. And thank you for your concern for NIST.”
Twenty minutes later, the Cableman drifted across the sky while nearing his apartment building. Fortunately, there were no text messages or voice mails from the office. But that didn't mean they weren't looking for him on the radio in his van. The Cableman needed to get home, get back in the company van and continue with Friday's route of installs. There was no telling what obstacles could arise during a job. Time was always precious.
"That was so screwed up!" exclaimed the Cableman. "I can't believe this! And they tagged me! They freaking tagged me!"
Just then, the Cableman's phone rang. It was Tina, his Pleiadian girlfriend. The Cableman was going to have to learn how to protect her from the federal agents as well. And Tina was yet to be aware that she was Pleiadian.
"Hello?" the Cableman answered while trying to act calm.
"Hi! How is your day going?"
"Oh, just peachy..."
Tina detected the stress in the Cableman's voice. "What's wrong?"
"Oh, just another day on the job, I guess." By now, the Cableman hovered over his apartment building and began the descent to his balcony.
"Well, it's Friday." encouraged Tina. "Would you like to come over to my house, tonight?"
"Your house?" asked the Cableman. "You mean with your parents—like meet your parents?" The Cableman was aware that Tina still lived at home with Mom and Dad.
"Well, my Dad is having a small party tonight with business colleagues. He's having food and drinks catered in. And it would be nice for you to meet my parents, you know?"
The Cableman had no idea that their relationship was that important to Tina. "Um... Sure. I'll come over."
"Great!" exclaimed Tina. "And I'll put up the croquet set in the backyard for us to play. Did you ever play croquet?"
"Yeah, I've played before. That sounds like fun." The Cableman could hardly believe how his day was turning out. Just twenty minutes ago he was arrested by federal agents, interrogated of his affiliation with the space brother/sister hood, and then tagged with a tracking chip. Now he was being invited to join his girlfriend for a game of croquet later that evening. The Cableman's life was very strange.
Friday's route of installs wasn't too unusual; that is if you don't count the strange job that took place at the end of the day. It was actually past quitting time, and the Cableman was faced with a customer who looked to be in his mid-20s that lived with his mother. He was escorted into the customer's bedroom who—obviously—wanted cable installed. But, immediately, the Cableman noticed a dozen lingerie catalogs spread open across the floor. Amidst the open pages of semi-nude models was a collection of crumpled up tissues laying about.
The customer quickly cleaned up. "Don't mind the mess Mr. Cableman! We all get our urges, right?"
"Whatever..." answered the Cableman.
"Here's the TV I want cable to be on."
Left alone, the Cableman did his work in the bedroom, but could hear a bizarre conversation taking place in the family room between the customer and his mother.
"Don't worry Momma! I won't ever let Dad come back here and hurt us. I don't like the bad things that Dad did to us, AND IF HE EVER COMES BACK, I'LL KILL HIM... Yes, I'm serious! I will kill him. You can tell him that Donny wants to kill him if he ever comes back and tries to hurt us!"
The customer was watching old music videos on TV. The 1990s hit video "Buddy Holly" from Wheezer came on. You know the song, "Oo-ee-oo I look just like Buddy Holly. Oh-oh, and you're Mary Tyler Moore. I don't care what they say about us anyway. I don't care 'bout that"
Despite how outdated the song and video is, the customer was enamored with it. It was as-if he had just discovered it. "Momma! Momma! Here's that video I want you to see! It's about Buddy Holly! MOMMA!!! MOMMA! I'M TELLIN' YOU TO COME HERE NOW!!! GET IN HERE!!!!"
Realizing how frightening this man truly was, the Cableman cautiously entered the family room. "Okay sir, you're all set."
Apparently hyper-charged from hearing Wheezer, the customer darted into his bedroom and was outraged upon seeing where the Cableman needed to put the cable outlet. "You put it there? And you drilled a hole into the house? I'm calling your office, and I'm going to let them see them bad work you do!" He began kicking gaping holes into the drywall. His face was beet-red, and drool rolled off his lips while shouting. "SEE THE ROTTEN WORK YOU DO!!!!"
By some chance, the Cableman was able to go into the family room and have the mother—who was now in tears—sign the paperwork so the Cableman could get out of the house.
What on Earth did Father do to that poor woman and her son years ago?
It was past quitting time, and the cable office was closed for the day. Aside from that, the Cableman was not too far from his Pleiadian girlfriend's house. He turned into the subdivision and was immediately greeted by million-dollar homes. The Cableman wasn’t afraid of big houses. He had been in plenty of them throughout his career. But apparently, Tina’s parents were wealthy. And this might spell trouble for being accepted by them.
Was it so bad to park his van off the curb and click up the driveway in his steel-toed work boots with Cableman attire to meet Mom and Dad?
Well the Cableman did just that, and rang the doorbell.
Seconds later, the door opened. Facing the Cableman was middle-aged, professional Hispanic man dressed in Dockers and rayon golf polo. This, the Cableman concluded, was Tina's father. And might I add that the Cableman isn't too far from middle-aged, himself. I guess it's safe to say that Tina is young enough to be the Cableman's daughter!
"We paid the cable bill!" said Tina's father.
"No I'm off the clock, sir. I'm here to see Tina."
Tina's father was dumbfounded. "Tina? You mean Tina, my daughter?"
He sighed and then called out in such a way to be yelling up a flight of stairs. "Tina, would you come down here, please?"
The Cableman was left to stand on the porch as the father continued to call out. "Tina? Tina, get down here!"
Tina's voice could finally be heard. "Yes, Daddy. What is it?"
"Could you explain something to me?"
Tina was pulled towards the door by her arm. "This cable man is here to see you. Why is he here to see you?"
"Daddy, that's my boyfriend. I invited him here."
"So you're dating a cable TV installer?"
"Yes!" answered Tina. "He's a great guy! He flies around in a space ship!" She looked outside towards the street and was disappointed to see the company van. "Oh you didn't fly here?"
"No..." answered the Cableman. "I just got off work and was in the area."
At that point, Tina's father opened the screen door. "Well come in. I guess welcome to our home. I'm Eduardo." He firmly grasped the Cableman's hand and shook while gazing into his eyes. "And you are?"
"I'm the Cableman."
"Oh, just the Cableman?"
Tina's father, Eduardo, forced a laugh which clearly communicated that he did not like the Cableman. "So I've got a man of mystery dating my daughter. Nothing wrong with that..." And with that, he walked back to the party to be with business colleagues.
It was quite a party on the outside deck with fine food catered in—roasted chicken, ham, prime rib, shish-ka-bobs, various grilled vegetables and potatoes. There was a small desert table next to the food. Plenty of drink flowed as noisy business men with blood-pumped faces discussed business and shop talk. Women stood in their own area, sipping wine or margaritas. They might have only had a couple of morsels of food with their drinks. Business women, after all, must remain thin with sculpted asses and long fingernails.
The Cableman glanced over towards the direction of Eduardo, and—for the first time—noticed an attractive woman with long, black hair and high cheekbones. She looked like the sort of woman that the Cableman would be into. Space brothers, after all, have an attraction towards Earth women with dark features. And it just so happened that this woman and Eduardo were discussing something, then both looked over towards the Cableman with disgusted looks on their faces.  Apparently, this was the Cableman’s introduction to Mother. She didn’t like the Cableman, of course. A man the same age as her was now dating her beautiful, young daughter.
The Cableman sighed and then turned towards Tina. "What are we celebrating?"
"I don't know." answered Tina. "I guess they got some multi-million dollar deal. It happens all the time."
"Nice!" exclaimed the Cableman.
"You want a drink?" asked Tina.
"Sure, I'll take a beer."
"Help yourself, Mr. Cableman!" shouted Tina's father from across the deck. It was his way of reminding the Cableman that he was merely permitted to be there, and could be thrown out at any time.
"Thank you..." The Cableman fixed himself a plate of prime rib and some vegetables. He was trying to cut back on carbohydrates to stay in shape.
Eating was a bit awkward for the Cableman. He sat at a small table with Tina and couldn't help but feel as-if everyone watched him. The Cableman was truly out of place in his Cableman attire and sitting with Eduardo’s daughter.
Then came the game of croquet. No one else but Tina and the Cableman played. And Tina seemed to be having the time of her life as she and her newfound boyfriend hit wooden balls with their mallets through hoops. The Cableman couldn't help but notice that people watched from a distance. He could almost hear their thoughts. "Who is this guy with Eduardo’s daughter? Why are they having such a blast playing croquet?
It was a strange, strange day for the Cableman.

Then again, the same can be said about his life…

Friday, January 23, 2015

Introduction to Little Paw, the Schizophrenic Teddy Bear

Hello All:
I'm quite certain that you are just dying to know what happens to our friend, the Cableman, now that he's trapped in an underground conference room and being interrogated by government agents. I actually had in mind to complete another Cableman story for you before the weekend so you can see what's happened. And I'm right in the middle of it! Unfortunately I haven't had much time for writing these past couple of days. I'll be sure to have the new Cableman story for you on Monday.
As I mentioned earlier this week, housecleaning was done on the mainstream book catalogs. Those books of mine that weren't selling have been removed. This brings us the return of Little Paw the Schizophrenic Teddy Bear to the Literary World of Tom Raimbault. For some reason, people weren't willing to download a collection of short stories about a schizophrenic teddy bear. But maybe you will enjoy them.
Have a great weekend! And pay no attention to voices in your head that accuse you of horrific crimes.

Introduction to Little Paw
It was only days before Christmas; a time when children (and teddy bears) daydream of the most anticipated night of the year while gazing at the tree and decorations. But Momma Bear observed the most unexpected behavior from her cub, Little Paw. He lay on the living room floor beneath the Christmas tree, seemingly in agony, or as-if something heavy weighed upon his mind.
"Momma, I keep getting these terrible thoughts in my head and they really bother me!" The teddy bear cub finally approached his mother for comfort.
"Well what are you thinking about, Little Paw? What's bothering you? Are you worried about Santa again?"
"No Momma; its worse. They're such bad thoughts."
What on Earth could be troubling her precious Little Paw? Momma Bear was curious and eager to hear more. "Well what is it that you're thinking about? What's bothering you?"
"I can't tell you, Momma! The thoughts are terrible! I just wish I could get rid of them." Not exactly what Momma Bear expected to hear, she stepped away thinking that perhaps her Little Paw needed to go to bed early that night. He had been home from school during Christmas break and developed the habit of going to bed later than his usual time. Perhaps catching up on his sleep would be the solution.
But later that night, during dinner, Little Paw had another terrifying episode. Momma and Papa Bear observed as their teddy bear cub held his paws to his ears -- as if protecting them from a shrilling noise. The cub's face grew contorted in a series of expressions that held back his traumatized emotions. "LIARS! THEY'RE ALL LIARS!" Little Paw screamed out to people who were not in the kitchen.
"Little Paw? Is everything okay?" Papa Bear had never seen such frightening behavior from his cub.
"They're telling lies about me! I never did those things!"
"Did what, Little Paw?"
"I never committed those horrific crimes!"
Momma just looked at Papa Bear hoping he could get to the bottom of this. And as usual, Papa Bear remained calm and rational. "Little Paw, no one is accusing you of doing anything wrong. What's this all about?"
"It's the voices Papa! They whisper bad things about me and tell lies." Papa Bear certainly didn't hear the voices that Little Paw claimed to hear. He was at a loss of words, but Momma Bear knew just the thing for her precious cub.
"Now, now Little Paw; you just try and relax and I'll fix you a nice cup of chamomile tea. Then we'll put you down to bed early tonight. Christmas is only a couple days away and you need to be ready for all those toys Santa will bring."
The teddy bear cub drank his chamomile tea and quickly dozed off in a restful sleep. He awoke the next morning refreshed and renewed -- appearing to have forgotten the terrifying episode of the previous evening. And much to Momma Bear’s delight, Little Paw was back to his old self with the excitement of any other normal teddy bear cub who anticipated Christmas. He exhibited no further terrifying episodes during the Christmas holiday as he played with all the new toys, ate plenty of honey and marmalade for Christmas dinner, and visited Grandma and Grandpa Bear who had more toys from Santa, of course.
Now Little Paw was getting to be a big cub, and Momma and Papa Bear had a lengthy discussion of whether or not to tell him the truth about Santa Clause. Any grown-up teddy bear (and human) continues to believe in the existence of Santa Clause as he lives in our hearts. But the time comes, early in life, when one must learn that Santa Clause doesn't travel the world Christmas Eve on a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer. Momma and Papa Bear intended to encourage Little Paw to continue believing in Santa Clause and the magic of Christmas. They just wanted him to understand what Santa Clause truly was.
And it was on such an evening, during a heart-to-heart talk with the cub, that Momma and Papa Bear felt partly responsible for another terrifying episode. The cub became outraged, "SO YOU LIED TO ME? I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT YOU MADE ME LIVE A LIE MY WHOLE LIFE! I TRUSTED YOU, BUT YOU LET ME DOWN! YOU PROBABLY LAUGHED AT ME AND MOCKED ME BEHIND MY BACK!"
"Little Paw, it's not what you think." As usual, Papa Bear was calm and rational. But his cub continued to spew out accusations in a tone of vile rage.
"I know you were laughing at me! I saw you and Momma Bear as my back was turned. I could see in the reflections of the windows that you snickered in the corner at me and mocked me!"
"LITTLE PAW, THAT'S ENOUGH!" Papa Bear lost his patience and nearly gave the cub a good spanking. But Momma Bear came to the rescue and suggested that Little Paw be sent to bed early that night where he can think about his behavior.
Unfortunately, the cub's episode continued through the night as he held his paws to his ears while screaming, "LIARS!" Whispers of accusations came from under the bed, through the bedside radio, even from the electric outlets -- all claiming Little Paw to be a thief, a murderer, and a menace to society. By midnight, Momma Bear could see that the cub was truly terrified, leaving her no choice but to stay up with him throughout the night. Little Paw apparently had something wrong and was in serious need of a doctor.

Momma and Papa Bear were relieved to find out that Little Paw's terrifying episodes could be remedied by a daily pill. And through time, the cub resumed a normal life and no longer claimed being plagued by horrible thoughts, people snickering in the corner, and voices accusing him of terrible crimes.
To be continued...

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Father and Prince Oedipus

Hello All:
Housecleaning is typically done at the Literary World of Tom Raimbault, each year, on the major catalogs. I look at the sales reports and can see what people are downloading vs. what they are not. As you suspect, I remove the titles that generate no interest from the book catalogs.
Case in point: today's featured writing. We have a bizarre story about a young boy who has a bad case of Oedipus complex. I'm not sure why, but no one would touch this story out in the mainstream bookshelves. You are dedicated fan and follower of Tom Raimbault. Let me know what you think. After a few years of it's unsuccessful journey out into the mainstream catalogs, Father and Prince Oedipus returns to the Literary World of Tom Raimbault and can be read in its entirety.
When I was a young boy, I wanted to murder my father, run away with my mother and marry her. At least this is what Sigmund Freud seems to believe. But I don’t remember this, thankfully.
 I do remember projecting Oedipean fantasies towards my 2nd grade teacher. She was my first infatuation, and the first woman I had ever become obsessed with. Sadly, I don’t remember what she looked like; but I do recall a series of fantasies that I often had of her while laying in bed at night.
In the fantasies, my 2nd grade teacher’s husband had to go away for a long time. The details of his absence weren’t too important. Maybe he was hospitalized, or perhaps he went away on some foreign trip for business. Being that my 2nd grade teacher was without male companionship, she invited me to temporarily live with her until his return. I was, after all, her very special student and believed to be the teacher’s pet—at least in the fantasies.
Every night she would prepare a fine dinner for the two of us; and we would probably enjoy wine while talking into the late hours. I slept in her bed, of course, where we even made out. Sometimes we would lay naked together, side-by-side, and I could fondle her bare breasts.
Then one day (in the fantasies of that young boy) my 2nd grade teacher’s husband had announced his soon return. But I symbolically killed him—at least in the way that a small child would be capable of. I was the master of the fantasy, and I could wish the man who insisted on sharing the woman I loved to stay far, far away. Maybe his illness worsened, requiring that he remain hospitalized. Or perhaps his foreign business trip had unexpectedly demanded more time.
My 2nd grade teacher spoke from her desk one morning, “Tom, I feel so sad, knowing that you will no longer be staying with me.” By then, all the kids in the class were aware that I was “the man” who took care of the teacher while her husband was away.
But I reminded her, “No, your husband won’t be coming home for a while, remember?”

Silly teacher; she forgot about that. “Oh, yeah! Good, I can’t wait for more fun tonight!”

Father and Prince Oedipus
Father awoke one Saturday morning to the sound of Mother showering in their master bathroom. Of course a wife is meant to be owned and enjoyed as much as possible. Was it not right to enter her realm of privacy, and flash open the shower curtains to take sight of all the cherished beauty?—naked and wet with adorable breasts that were lathered in suds.
Mother was startled from the invasion and quickly annoyed. "Doug, can I have some privacy, please?"
He stared in awe for brief moment, closed the curtains and then went to his morning business, hunched over to guide his “stiff pipe” towards the toilet bowl to be drained.
Once finished, Father went back into the bedroom and shut the bathroom door, behind. Although he may have been hungry for breakfast, there was something far, more interesting to snack on in the bathroom. He sat back down on the bed and waited for Mother to finish her shower.
Just then, little Joey entered the bedroom and called out, "Dad?"
"What are you doing?"
There were no secrets in the house; no need to hide his desires for his wife. Father calmly answered, "Watching your Mother."
Then Father asked, "Do you want to see a tit?"
Little Joey's eyes lit up, "Yeah!"
"Okay, wait here. But you have to do exactly as I say."
Father and son waited in the bedroom for nearly five minutes as Mother completed her shower. The sound of water spiking against the bathtub, ceramic tile and curtains finally stopped. It was replaced with the sound of the shower curtains opening and a towel being pulled from the bar. All the while, Father placed his awareness in the private bathroom, gauging the activities of his beautiful wife.
Water soon could be heard from the bathroom sink. It was Father's cue to order his son, "Joey, open the bathroom door. I want to see what your Mother is doing in there. And don't listen to her if she tells you to shut it, understand?"
Little Joey acknowledged, "Okay..." Then he opened the door just as Father ordered.
What stood before Father and son was the most beautiful sight! Mother was naked as ever, and displaying a side profile of her beautiful, glorious ass! There are countless images of willing women who pose their naked bottoms on the Internet or in girly magazines. But no man is ever awarded to the sort of ass that we all want to see. So full, round and sculpted with life: A beautiful ass has carried a baby or two (and even more) for 9 months at a time. A perfected woman's ass is anything but "cookie-cutter" and generic. It’s robust, firm and includes possible layers of fat that jiggle while walking. It might even shake from side-to-side while cooking on the stove.
The beautiful sight that stood naked in that bathroom nearly glowed from the light of Heaven above. And then Mother turned towards Joey with a furious face and ordered, "Shut the door!"
Joey turned towards Father for guidance.
Father simply ordered, "Step away; I want to look at your Mother some more."
Mother did her best to ignore the morning's harassment. She felt that any further display of not appreciating the invasion of privacy would only fuel Father's excitement. Slamming the door shut or yelling might only escalate the situation. She simply continued to do her business at the bathroom mirror, naked, without any seeming qualms of being on display before husband and son.
But Father wasn't going to fall for the reverse psychology. "Joey, do you see that rubber band on the dresser?"
"Bring that over to me."
Joey did as Father asked and then watched as his role model hooked one end of the rubber band to his thumb while stretching the other with his index finger. Father aimed with the intended projectile towards Mother, who appeared oblivious to what was about to happen.
Suddenly, the rubber band shot forward and slapped Mother square on the cheek of her ass!
The butt cheek slightly jiggled as she quickly grabbed the area of assault. Mother's annoyed face glared at Father and sharply spoke, "Doug, that's not nice! Stop that!"
Mother really wished she could have enjoyed the morning ritual of showering and grooming alone. Perhaps if she dressed it would have put a stop to the childish games and fascination with her naked body. She reached for her blue bathrobe that was hung on the back of the door and put it on. Then she walked out into the bedroom where her husband and son continued to watch.
The bathrobe hugged close to every beautiful curve of the naked hips and ass underneath. Father calmly asked, "Why do you have your bathrobe on?"
It was a stupid question in Mother's eyes. She only glared at Father with a face that suggested this.
It was only amusement for Father. "Do you think the robe is going to prevent me from seeing anything?" He sprung off the bed and seized his beautiful wife that was naked underneath the robe.
Mother cried out, "Doug, stop it!"
Father only shoved his object of extreme desire on the bed and dove on top.
Hair still damp from the shower and a fresh face without any makeup, Mother continued to cry out in anguish, "Stop it, Doug! Stop it! What's wrong with you?"
"I'll look at anything I want!"
Little Joey watched as Father violently pulled apart the lapels of Mother's bathrobe. He wrested with the feisty beast that growled and fought desperately for her decency and the simple right to cover herself when wanted. Soon her breasts were exposed, as father marveled and exclaimed with a mighty, "Agggghhhhh!" But it was necessary to hold Mother's wrists above her head as he took hold of one breast and squeezed it, reminding little Joey of a firm, pimento-stuffed olive that was about to lose its center.
Father looked over to his son and yelled out, "Look, Joey! A tit... a tit!"
There were a few occasions when Mother had to remind little Joey to stay out of her purse. Rummaging a woman's purse was an invasion of privacy. It was time little Joey understood this. But for Joey; the word, privacy, only brought to mind images of Mother standing alone and naked behind a closed door. Why was it so necessary for the woman he loved to demand such privacy?
Not more than a half hour after watching Father invade Mother's privacy in the bedroom, then to ultimately assault her, Joey sat on the family room carpeting, deviously looking at Mother's purse from a distance.
Mother was cooking breakfast in the kitchen while Father sat at the table, drinking his morning coffee. At that moment, Mother wouldn't have sensed the invasion of privacy. Being the case, Joey crawled across the floor until reaching the purse. As always, Mother had it zipped up, making it necessary to slowly open as-if not to make any noise. When finally unzipped, Joey delightfully removed one item after another—wallet, cosmetics, perfume, hair brush, receipts from the store, a tampon, a bottle of aspirin and a pack of chewing gum.
What better way to ultimately invade Mother's privacy than to steal one of her sticks of chewing gum? He carefully unwrapped the stick and chomped it in his mouth. That was when he heard Mother's irate voice, "Alright, Mister! I told you to stay out of my purse! What business do you have going in there?"
Joey would have liked to have said, "I'll look at whatever I want." Instead, he provided a pouty look and then argued back, "I wasn't going in there!"
"Don't you lie to me, Mister! All my things are lying on the floor. How did they get there?"
Little Joey only shrugged his shoulders.
With the eggs still frying in the pan, Mother quickly walked over to her purse, gathered up the items and put them back. She zipped it closed before bringing it back into the kitchen, safe from any further invasions from Joey.
"Sit down at the table. Breakfast is almost ready." Mother always made demands like that. Why did the woman he love have to speak so harshly?
To make the morning all-the-more interesting, Father broke the silence with a simple question as Mother brought the pan of eggs over to the table. "Can I play with your tits, tonight?"
Mother slammed the pan on the hot pad and returned a harsh look to Father.
But Father wasn't satisfied with the answer. As Mother sat down and reached for Joey's plate, Father asked another bothersome question. "Wanna have sex, tonight?"
Mother ignored the question.
Mother answered, "What?"
"Wanna have sex, tonight?"
This mention of sex often provoked anger in Mother. Joey wasn't exactly sure what it meant to "have sex", but he assumed it to be the ultimate invasion of Mother's privacy; seeing and fondling her naked body.
It was midmorning and getting close to lunch. Father lay on the family room couch, carefully watching mother dust the furniture. Suddenly, Father announced, "I could just tear those clothes off of you, right now!"
Mother put the aerosol and dust cloth down then turned towards Father. "You think so?"
"Yeah, I do! I can have you naked in less than 30 seconds!"
"Oh, really?" Mother saw the moment as the perfect opportunity to demonstrate that her husband was nothing more than talk. "Well this I have to see! I already know that you can't do that!"
Really, Mother should have ignored him. Father saw it as an invitation to leap up from the couch and viciously attack his wife.
Joey watched in disbelief as Mother's t-shirt had been torn open from the front, exposing her bra.
"What are you doing, Doug! That's a new shirt!"
"I'll get you out of these clothes in no time!" The remains of the shirt were aggressively yanked off before Father began to work on her pants.
"Stop it, Doug! Stop it! Joey's watching!"
Father momentarily paused and turned towards his son. "Joey, turn around! Don't look at your mother!"
But Joey only slightly turned around so he could continue to watch the show. Off went Mother's panties, her socks and then her bra. And then Father carried his naked, feisty wife into the bedroom and shut the door.
Now alone, Joey could only study the aftermath of torn clothes and undergarments that littered the floor. The only people who were with him, now, were the houseplants.
Mother had a vast collection of houseplants that absorbed sunlight in the family room and kitchen. Philodendrons, rubber plants, spider plants, ferns, and ivy plants: most of these family members resided in the family room, near the full-sized window. And many of them were quite large and healthy as Mother took excellent care of her plants.
Joey was always reminded not to touch the houseplants. As Mother worded it, "Plants don't like to be touched." Such a devious boy; Joey found many opportunities to touch the very plants that he was ordered to leave alone. With Mother and Father in the bedroom, he took great delight in touching the leaves of a rubber plant. The leaves were always so tempting for Joey as they were shiny and waxy in appearance.
Stupid, silly plant: no one could save it now! Even screaming out to Mother wouldn't help. They often created a high-pitched noise that Mother could hear—Joey assumed—which brought her into the family room to scold him.
Suddenly, one of the other plants tried to reason with the boy. "Hey, why don't you go in the kitchen and bring one of the chairs in here? Let's see how big and strong you are; see if you can lift it over your head."
This was one of Joey's favorite activities. The plants truly admired his strength and often encouraged him to lift heavier and heavier objects. For being so adoring of the boy, one would have expected little Joey to be friendlier.
Moments later, he returned to the family room with a kitchen chair and set it before the plants. 7 large houseplants eagerly waited for the midmorning show, cheering little Joey on. Joey lifted the chair from the seat and pushed it up and over his head.
"You're so strong!"
Joey began to walk around the family room with the chair above his head. He felt so powerful in that moment, and realized how helpless and defenseless the plants were in his presence. That's when he asked an oversized philodendron, "You want to see something else?"
The plant shouted out, "No! Don't do it! Please, don't!"
Joey ignored the pleas, and threw the kitchen chair at the plant. Stupid, helpless plant: Joey didn't care if Mother ordered him not to touch them.
It was still best to clean up after the assault. Joey brought the chair back into the kitchen and then did his best to cover the damage to the philodendron. Some of the soil had spilled on the carpet, and one of the leaves had been torn. That was easy to fix. Joey simply ripped the remaining leaf off the plant and then scooped up as much soil as possible and brushed it back into the pot. Of course a child that age never understands that a closer look by an adult reveals everything that had happened. There was still soil on the floor, and a couple of the philodendron's stems had been bent from the overbearing weight of the chair. Mother would surely discover this, later. But that was nothing for Joey to worry about. He could simply deny that anything had ever happened.
With Mother and Father still in their bedroom, Joey was bored on that Saturday midmorning, close to lunch. He simply stepped out onto the front porch and looked for more mischief to get into. There at the front of the house were Mother's flowers that had been planted with care. Snap dragons, impatiens, morning glories and daisies; Joey often connected these creatures to the houseplants and assumed that the same rule applied.
Joey's favorite flower was Mother's yellow daisies. When fully opened, they reminded him of a breast with the center stigma being the areola and nipple. He imagined that squeezing the flower would be similar to squeezing a breast which would force the nipple to bulge out. He did so to a helpless, defenseless daisy flower. It screamed out, "Stop it! Stop it! You're hurting me!" But Joey didn't have to obey any orders from a stupid flower. Instead, he took hold of another and squeezed it in the same fashion.
"You're hurting me! Stop it!"
Joey only softly called out, "Look, Joey! At tit... a tit!"
With more damage done to Mother's cherished things, Joey took off down the street in search of more victims to assault that day.
Ms. Lori, Joey's kindergarten teacher, not only had a last name similar to Mother's first, but lived just around the block. It was a delight for parents, teacher and Joey to have learned this. Ms. Lori was such a nice lady and always made her neighbor students feel welcome to visit. Joey had done this on a couple occasions.
Ms. Lori's front yard was different from his. She had several trees scattered throughout along with thick bushes that perimitered the house. Similar to his house, Ms. Lori also had flowers planted along the front to include beautiful, red roses.
It was now lunchtime as Ms. Lori looked out her front window and took sight of the boy squatted near her flowers. If she didn't know any better, Joey appeared to be deliberately damaging her flowers! She rushed out the front door and called out, "Joey! What are you doing? Don't do that to my flowers!"
Joey looked up with a sad, pouty look. Why was everyone always placing such limitations on his life?
Ms. Lori gently walked up to the boy and noticed the squashed rose petals lying near the damaged flower. "Joey, why would you do that?"
He looked so sad, "I don't know..."
"Joey, that makes me very sad to see my roses squashed like that. Do you do that to your mommy's flowers?"
Ms. Lori sighed. She didn't know what else to say. Perhaps if the boy was treated to lunch, "Well, I'm making some soup and a sandwich for lunch. Would you like to join me?"
"Okay..." Joey followed his kindergarten teacher right into the house where he was led to the kitchen table.
"Sit here; I'll get you a bowl and spoon, make you a bologna sandwich and we'll have lunch together."
Just then, a loud buzzer could be heard.
"Oh my! That's the clothes dryer. I better get that. There are some wrinkables in there."
With Ms. Lori gone, Joey saw a perfect opportunity to case out the home and look for private things that were none of his business. Upon entering the living room, he spotted a large collection of houseplants that were similar to what Mother had.
They all looked at him in hatred. "That's the one! He's the little boy who likes to hurt plants. We're so glad you don't live here with us!"
And then Joey took notice of the strangest looking plant of them all, a red needle cactus that towered above the side table. It was the stupidest looking plant he had ever seen and grew increasingly angry as he looked at it. It remained silent as Joey approached, giving no warning to leave it alone. Stupid plant; didn't it realize how mighty and powerful the little boy truly was?
Joey took his open hand and struck at the side of the red needle cactus. Of course the needles penetrated Joey's sensitive skin. He didn't strike it hard enough to get a needle lodged in; although he certainly deserved this! The almighty, powerful, little boy did the only thing he could in that moment. He cried like a little baby, his hand throbbing from the needle's penetration and his ego very much injured.
Ms. Lori heard the crying and ran into the living room. "What? What's wrong?"
Frustrated, Joey yelled at his kindergarten teacher. "You're plant; it hurt me!"
Ms. Lori gasped, "Oh no! Did you touch the cactus? Joey, you're not supposed to do that. Let me see your hand." She took hold of the little boy's wrist and was relieved to see no embedded needles. It probably just hurt the child and at the same time upset him. But Ms. Lori was nurturing, as all kindergarten teachers are. She led him over to the bathroom sink, cleaned the area of injury with soap and water and then applied some Benadryl in case he had an allergic reaction to the cactus.
With the drama over and her wrinkables hung from the clothes dryer, Ms. Lori served her special guest a nice bowl of chicken noodle soup and a bologna sandwich. As a treat, she also made him a glass of chocolate milk; feeling that soda was out of the question, but chocolate milk being the next best thing.
While they ate, Joey took notice of Ms. Lori's large breasts behind her blouse with cleavage that was partially exposed. Father taught the boy so well. Such questions were certainly appropriate during mealtime. "Can I play with your tits after lunch?"
The question shocked poor Ms. Lori. "Excuse me?"
"Can I play with your tits after lunch?"
"No, I heard what you said. I just can't believe it. First of all; that's a very, bad word to say. And you don't ask somebody a question like that. Don't let me ever hear you say that again, do you understand me?"
Joey returned a sad, pouty face while nodding in affirmation. Surely Ms. Lori's flowers would pay dearly some time later!

Tuesday, January 20, 2015


Hello All:
All of our Christmas decorations have been taken down at our house. In their place are Valentine's Day decorations. But we haven't rid ourselves of the holiday tree concept. Check out the Valentine's tree that stands at the entrance to our home. Late at night, the foyer glows a soft pink. Cool!
Today's featured writing is a brand, new Cableman story for you. It's a continuation from where we left off last week.
Now if this is your first time visiting, you might get lost if you simply dive in and read this story. You should really download your free copy of the published Cableman novella, How to Get with Jenny Robin. It can be found at just about every online bookstore, including Smashwords. The book is a nice introduction into the Cableman's world, and how he was inducted into a strange UFO cult.
Afterwards; read the stories, below, in their proper order. By the time you are finished, you will be brought up to speed to read today's featured writing.

  1. Alien Language:
  2. A Lover from Sirius:
  3. A Tour of Starship Athena:
  4. Pleiadian Kissing:
  5. The Temple of Sirius:
  6. Orthon's Shoeprint:
  7. Death Update:
  8. The Return of Drax:

It was late Thursday night—actually the wee hours of Friday morning—as the Cableman tossed and turned in bed. He was worried about the Drax motorcycle gang succeeding in their sinister mission of stealing God's power meter from NIST in Boulder Colorado. Nicknamed God's power meter, it's an important machine that sets the universal standard for what—exactly—one watt of power is. The entire electronics world depends on accurate readings of one watt for calibrating equipment and taking measurements. The Cableman, especially, depends on the accuracy of one watt. How could he troubleshoot all those customer calls for poor cable service while relying on faulty measuring equipment?
The Cableman dreamed of those hideous bandits who tattooed themselves and altered their bodies to appear reptilian—just like the evil Daraconians who set out to dominate the universe. They zipped down the highway on their crotch rockets. While passing vehicles that might have had pretty women inside, some of the Drax members made crotch-lick gestures by wiggling their split tongues between the cracks of their fingers. Imagine the pleasure of dual tongues tickling inner-vaginal walls!
Then again, maybe the favor would be disgusting coming from a reptile person.
Suddenly, the dreams shifted direction; and the Cableman found himself aboard the Arcturian starship, Athena. He was standing before his dream mentor, Melissa. Both were in the Encyclopedia Galactica room; a room that contained nothing more than a table with enormous book sitting on it. The book was, literally, an encyclopedia with information on every, entity throughout the universe—both past and current lives.
"It'll be easy to stop them, Cableman." informed Melissa. She was referring to the Drax who were en route to Boulder, Colorado. "You doubt yourself too much. You don't give yourself enough credit."
The Cableman sighed. "How am I supposed to go up against a radical group of bikers? I can't stop them."
"Well, Cableman, it's time you learn about one of our secret weapons. You're a space brother, and you have the right to access the power of runes." Melissa held out a beautiful, quartz sculpture that looked to be nothing more than the letter Y with a third line added in the center.
"It's Algiz..." said Melissa. "It's a rune of basic protection. As long as your intentions are good, and your heart strives for purity, Algiz will not fail you. It's so powerful, that you won't have to lift a finger to foil their sinister plot. In fact, being that your interest is suddenly sparked in this rune, the motion is already underway which will ultimately stop the Drax dead in their tracks!"
"What do I have to do with it?" asked the Cableman.
"Simply repeat, three times, 'Algiz... Algiz... Algiz...' Do it nice and slow while mentally assigning the rune to the Drax invasion."
Melissa flipped open the large Encyclopedia Galactica while explaining, "Runes were given to humans many ages ago and made possible by—believe it or not—Santa Claus."
"Santa Claus?" exclaimed the Cableman. "What???"
"Well he had this adventure before he became Santa Claus. His name was Odin. He was the ancient Norse god who was ruler of the realm of Asgard. And he still is. In modern times they just call Asgard the North Pole."
Melissa finally reached the page she was looking for which had a matrix of nine circles. "See this center circle surrounded by the eight?" she asked.
"Yes..." answered the Cableman.
"This is Midgard. This is the physical realm where we, humans, exist. To the right of us is Jötunheimr—home of the ice giants. To the left of us is Svartálfar—home of the dark elves. Directly above us is Asgard—home of the Æsir where Odin, or as many like to call him, Santa Claus.
There was once a time when Odin learned that his realm of Æsir would be destroyed by the Jötunheimr ice giants. It was an unavoidable fate. Odin was deeply saddened, of course, and wished to find a way to defeat his unavoidable fate."
Melissa circled the entire matrix. "In ancient, Norse cosmology; this entire network of circles represented the entire universe. It was called Yggdrasil and was joined by an enormous ash tree that sprawled throughout the nine worlds. Trees have roots, of course, and one of them reached out to an underground well named, Mímisbrunnr. The water from Mímisbrunnr contained a vast amount of knowledge. To drink from it would immediately grant one inconceivable wisdom. But this came with a cost. It would be necessary to sacrifice one's eye—just pluck it out."
"Ouch!" exclaimed the Cableman.
"And you can see where I'm going with this, right?" asked Melissa. "Odin crossed the cosmos, through the physical realm, and to the very bottom of the World Tree where he demonstrated his worthiness to drink from the well of Mímisbrunnr. He paid the ultimate price, was granted a drink, and was immediately given an infinite amount of wisdom to overcome the dark fate of Asgard. And one of the byproducts of his experience was a vision of 24 runes which could be used for magick; Algiz—rune of protection—being one of them."
"I see..." acknowledged the Cableman. "No pun intended!"
"So go ahead and have at it!" encouraged Melissa. "To this very day, those who understand the power of runes still use them. There are humanoid civilizations throughout the universe that use these runes. Runes never fail. But beware! If you have any malicious intent with them, expect extreme punishment! There's an account of an unfortunate man who tried to cast a love spell on a desired female by carving a rune script on the bones of a whale. First of all, he sacrificed a living creature for no other purpose than to do magick—a big no-no when working with runes. Secondly, love spells are not cool. His punishment: for the remainder of his life, he felt the carvings of those runes in his bones."
Just then, the Cableman glanced over towards the direction of the entryway to the room. Agent Lynn, one of the strange neighbors who moved in the apartment next door, was peaking around the doorway and spying."
Alarmed, the Cableman shouted, "Hey!" This awoke him from the dream.
The Cableman sighed, sat up and looked at the clock on his nightstand. It read 2:42 am. He reached over and turned on his bedside light. Then he slid open the drawer and removed a pen and paper so he could quickly sketch the Algiz symbol from the dream.
As for Agent Lynn, it was time for the Cableman to do some counter-spying. Who the hell was she? What was her mission? And what business did she have sneaking on board the Arcturian starship, Athena, just to eavesdrop on a private conversation between him and Melissa?
"Algiz... Algiz... Algiz..." The Cableman drove to work the following morning while chanting the name of the rune and mentally assigning it to the Drax motorcycle gang. "I won't have to lift a finger... She said that runes never fail..."
But despite what the Cableman understood, he felt he should be doing something proactive to prevent the Drax from succeeding in their mission.
"I can use the pneumatic tubes to whisk out there quickly! But what if my van stalls, or I get into an accident? How am I going to explain that to the boss?" The Cableman continued to ponder while driving to work, "After the morning meeting, I can cruise over to my apartment and park the van in the lot. Then I can take the flying saucer over to the pneumatic tube launch point. I'll arrive in Boulder and can scan the area for any trouble. At least it's something..."
And so the Cableman checked into work that Friday morning and sat through the grueling half hour meeting. When finally free, he quickly loaded the van for the day's route, and hoped he had some free time to spare before his first install.
But what was this? He had an 8:30am re-connect at an apart that was just down the street from his own.
"Crap!" exclaimed the Cableman. "I'm going to have to make this re-connect quick. I guess it's not so bad. The job is on my way back home.”
And so the Cableman peeled out of the cable yard with flashing yellow light on top of the van to warn motorists that it was an emergency. He made it back to his apartment complex in just eight minutes, and parked at the building several doors down from his. He exited the van and strapped the tool belt around his waist. Then he quickly walked over to the utility box to make his connections.
Three minutes later, the Cableman pressed the button at the entrance for the customer to let him in.
"Come on!" he whispered. "I don't have all day!"
"Yes?" a female voice answered over the intercom.
"It's the cable company! I'm here to hook your cable."
"Okay, come in."
The sound of the door could be heard unlocking, and the Cableman entered the building. He jogged up to the second floor and knocked on the customer's door.
Answering was attractive forty-something brunette dressed in nothing more than a nearly see-through nighty. But the Cableman wasn't there for fun! He needed to finish the job and whisk out to Boulder, Colorado before the Drax succeeded in their mission.
"Show me your TV!" the Cableman ordered.
"Okay... But is that all you want to see?" asked the customer.
"For now, yes."
The Cableman was escorted into the family room and over to the TV. He pressed the power button, selected the menu screen and clicked auto-program. For nearly a minute the TV scanned hundreds of channels before completing. When finished, a crystal, clear picture of the Discovery Channel could be seen.
"Okay, everything looks good." announced the Cableman.
"Is that all you needed to do?" asked the customer.
"Yup, I made all my connections outside. And from what I understand, the office is billing you. No money needs to be collected today. I just need your signature."
The customer took the clipboard from the Cableman and signed her name in the box. Her perky nipples protruded through the silky, transparent nighty. She was all ready for a visit from the Cableman.
After taking the clipboard back, the Cableman flipped through the paperwork for the carbon copy to tear off. As he was doing this, the customer reached her hand up and touched the side of the Cableman's head. "Mmmmmm! Wanna fool around???" she asked.
The Cableman slapped her hand away and then threw the copy of the paperwork on her TV. "Thank you, Ma'am, and have a great weekend!"
After storming out of the apartment and peeling off to his own building, The Cableman darted upstairs and entered his unit. He stepped out to his deck and climbed into the cockpit of his flying saucer to proceed with diagnostic checks.
"Good! We've got full juice! No need to recharge!"
All engines were activated; the Cableman open throttled, and he lifted up towards the sky. When about two-hundred feet in the air, he cruised in the direction towards the forest preserve where the pneumatic launch point was located.
It took just over ten minutes to reach the forest, and find a clearing to lower down to ground level where he followed the trail to the pile of boulders. The boulders, as you recall, contained a mysterious doorway that would open after the Cableman pressing his FOB. The FOB, as you might recall, was given to the Cableman by Orthon during his Earthly visit.
"There it is!" exclaimed the Cableman. With the flying saucer noisily hovering a few feet from the ground (noise brought on by a dozen vacuum cleaner motors), the Cableman pressed the button on the FOB.
The doorway opened, and a man dressed in Army fatigue appeared. But rather than motion the Cableman to enter, he stepped outside with a look of outrage and approached the flying saucer.
The Cableman popped open the hatch and greeted. "Hi, are the pneumatic tubes running today?"
"Not for that!" answered the man in Army fatigue. "Don't you know anything?"
"Huh? What's the problem?" asked the Cableman.
"Don't you have a map?"
"A map?" asked the Cableman.
"YES!" shouted the man in Army fatigue, obviously annoyed. "This node does not accommodate flying machines. You need to be about a half mile north from here to access the specialized tubes for something like this. Hang on, let me get a map!"
The Cableman waited as patiently as he could. In the meantime, were the Drax nearing God's power meter at NIST in Boulder, Colorado? Would they succeed? These were the thoughts that raced through the Cableman's mind while watching the man in Army fatigue return with a sheet of paper.
"Okay, this is node 117. The number one designates ground vehicles. You need to be at node 322. The number three designates flying machines. I can't believe no one ever explained this to you!"
"Sorry, I'm new." apologized the Cableman while studying the map. "So it looks like it's just off the shore of the lake. I should be able to find it." With that, the Cableman noisily lifted some one-hundred feet off the ground and traveled a half-mile north in the direction of node 322 as indicated on the map.
A few minutes later, he reached the lake and descended to the shore. When finally in view, he moved towards the direction of another pile of boulders.
"How do they turn these things into doorways?" asked the Cableman out loud. He pressed the button on the FOB.
Seconds later, a mysterious doorway opened. This time it was a man dressed in a black suit that appeared, and motioned the Cableman to enter.
The flying saucer noisily floated into the lobby. When all the way inside, the mysterious doorway sealed shut.
The Cableman popped open the hatch to the cockpit and presented his license. "Yeah, I need to get to NIST in Boulder, Colorado.
The man in black suit didn't even check the Cableman's license. He simply answered, "Pull up to number four."
The Cableman did as ordered and waited. "Come-on, what's taking so long?"
Finally, the steel door opened. The car area to the pneumatic tube was terribly small which made it difficult for the Cableman to maneuver inside. But with a little work, he managed to squeeze in. "I sure hope I can get out of here."
The door sealed shut, and the Cableman waited. He assumed high-speed travel would begin.
But what was this? The exit door in front of him opened. In walked Agent Lynn along with two men in dark suits. They all had pistols drawn and pointed at the Cableman.
"Step outside of your flying saucer!" ordered Agent Lynn.
The Cableman sighed, "Now why didn't I make these windows bullet proof?"
"NOW!" shouted Agent Lynn.
"It's because bullet proof would have been too heavy." he answered himself. Left with no choice, the Cableman opened the hatch and climbed out as ordered.
"That's it... nice and slow... Don't do anything stupid." warned Agent Lynn.
"I really need to be somewhere." informed the Cableman.
"That's not our concern at this moment." answered Agent Lynn.
The two men quickly approached. One of them held the Cableman's hands behind his back while the other used zip tie to secure them.
"Follow us!" ordered Agent Lynn.
"Well, I guess I have no choice." argued the Cableman as both men pulled and guided him against his will to follow Agent Lynn. They led him out of the exit door and down a narrow corridor. It must have been some sort of maintenance entryway for accessing the underground pneumatic tubes.
Agent Lynn entered a small conference room with table at the center while motioning the two men in. "This will have to do as an interrogation room."
The Cableman was harshly pushed inside.
"Hey, take it easy! I'm cooperating!"
He was nearly shoved into the seat.
As both men stood on each side of the Cableman as guard, Agent Lynn sat down across from him. "So..." she began. " long have you been aware of your starseed heritage?"
"My what?" asked the Cableman.
"What planet are you from?"
"What planet? I'm from Earth just like you!"
"Well you're a space brother." Agent Lynn reminded him. "So are you Pleiadian...? Arcturian...? Sirian...? Maybe you're one of the higher dimension beings from Venus? Or maybe you're from the lost continent of Atlantis?"
"None of them!" argued the Cableman. Then he explained, "Look! You've got to let me go! The Drax are heading towards NIST, right now, and have plans on stealing God's power meter. We'll be screwed if they succeed!"
"The Drax?" asked Agent Lynn with a queer expression. "You mean the Draconians?"
"Yes, those people!"
"So are you a Draconian?"
"No!" snapped the Cableman. "Look, I already told you people. I'm not an alien! Now will you please let me go?"
Agent Lynn reached into her notebook and pulled out a photograph. "Do you know this woman?" The photograph was placed in front of the Cableman. It was that of Jenny Robin.
"I've seen her before." answered the Cableman. "She was a customer of mine." Then he asked, "Who are you people? Do you have a warrant? Don’t I have the right to an attorney?"
"You're not under arrest, or wanted for any crime." reassured Agent Lynn. "We're just here to ask you a few questions. Now how about the woman in this photo? What was supposed to happen with her?"
"Nothing!" snapped the Cableman.
"Come-on!" argued Agent Lynn. "She found some mysterious clothes laying in her back yard one morning. This was shortly after receiving a strange drawing from some kid dressed up as Darth Vader. She knew it came from you, but wasn't too worried. The clothes, however, had her concerned. Investigators searched the surrounding forest preserve near her home and found cryogenically frozen semen buried near a clearing. We're assuming it's yours. We're onto you Cableman. We know a lot. Now you need to start being a little more cooperative."
In the meantime, a couple dozen crotch rockets zipped into the visitors' center of NIST. The creepy Drax members stood off their bikes and set the kickstands. Then they all marched up to the entryway door with full intention of taking God's power meter with force.
But what was this? The door was locked.
"What the hell?" exclaimed the female leader. "Why is the door locked? It's almost ten o'clock in the morning!" She flicked her split tongue and hissed in disappointment.
"Let's just kick the doors in! They're glass!" hissed a nearby Drax member.
No further discussion was necessary. The hideous group began kicking the glass with their reptile-skinned boots. The glass, they assumed, would soon break.
Now if you've ever seen a reality show in which security cameras recorded a criminal trying to kick and smash through a storefront plate glass window, then you know how impossible it nearly is. This is what the members of Drax were soon realizing. It wasn't so easy to simply smash through.
Speaking of security cameras; the onsite security department of NIST saw everything happening. 911 was telephoned. Within five minutes, a dozen squad cars with paddy wagon rushed to the scene. All members of Drax were apprehended, arrested and booked on charges of attempted vandalism.
The Cableman should have just done as Melissa suggested, and not lifted a finger. Algiz worked. The sinister plan of Drax had been foiled. But he now sat in an undisclosed conference room in some unknown cave beneath the ground, being badgered with questions by a government agent.

To be continued…