The Doc

smurfslappa · Nov 13, 2006

He has a great many stories posted on his LiveJournal, you should check them out. This was one of my favorite:

[url=http://doc-cathode.livejournal.com/2004/10/03/]Doc Cathode on 10/03/04[/url] said:

They say it's impossible to prove a negative. But after many years, Tom Jenkins believes he has suceeded. There is no crowd to cheer his work. Tom has no trophy, no plaque or statuette. He stands alone. His hands, and perhaps his heart, are empty.

He stands on the edge of an old quarry. It may be a cliche. But it was cliches that brought Tom to this night. In the ancient days of childhood, Tom and his friends had swam here. They had swam and told eachother tales. One of the boys had invented a monster. It was a great, serpentine thing with black stone teeth and eyes that glowed like radium dials. It ate bullies, and teachers, and protected the boys. Here, in the lair of the serpent, they were safe. Every boy had wanted to believe the story. At times, they had believed it. Tom wanted to believe it still. It had been the beast of the quarry that began all this.

There had to be magic. If he could simply find some small magic, then the beast could be real. He had ordered things from the back of comic books-coins that promised hypnotic powers, a bottle that allowed you to produce smoke from your fingertips, glasses that granted the wearer x-ray vision. He had received bits of cardboard and brightly colored plastic. He almost gave up then. He accepted that these things weren't magic. His parents were relieved, they felt it was time for Tommy to grow out of that phase. But, Tommy had decided that these things were tests.

Any fool could see that you didn't simply hand great magical powers over to any child who could afford a few dollars. Why, monsters would be running wild, there would be more fires in a single neighborhood than all the firetrucks in the country could handle, and the amount of flying boys and pets would block out the sun. So, little Tommy believed that after years of patient study, he would demonstrate his skills at sleight of hand and be admitted into a secret fraternity of real magicians. So, when Tommy asked for a top hat, wand and a magic kit for his birthday, his parents simply smiled.

He still has that first deck of cards 'Looks ordinary! Only YOU know its secrets!'. He takes the dog-eared cards from a pocket. He cuts and shuffles with one hand. He deals himself a hand from the bottom of the deck. He palms the ace and 'finds' it in his breast pocket. He looks at the deck, as though pondering the many secrets it promised. Wordlessly, he tosses the cards into the quarry. Then, he throws in an assortment of cups, balls, and handkerchiefs. How old had he been before he abandoned that dream? There was no secret brotherhood of sorcerers waiting behind the last level of tricks. Behind the last curtain, was a label saying "Made In Hong Kong" and nothing more. He had almost given up then too.

But, hope had come from a book he'd put in his room years ago. It mentioned a place called Loch Ness. Perhaps, he had been looking for the wrong kind of magic in the wrong place. He began studying Ogo Pogo, Mothman, and yetis then. He read books on alien saucers, and psychics. He was old enough to travel. But the lake monsters were always the tales of drunken anglers, or boys with snorkels and rubber monsters. The Mothman hadn't been seen for years. The Himalayas were a world away. All Tom had found were hoaxers and credulous fools.

There is new volley now. Keychains, souvenir snowglobes, and newspaper clippings rain into the quarry. Tom had wanted, wanted desperately, for magic. He had searched through all those years for magic. He has not found the slightest hint, the least trace, the faintest glimmer of magic. Some say you cannot prove a negative. But Tom feels that he has-there is no magic.

Even in the moonlight, he knows where he is. The quarry is shallow here. There is not enough water for a boy to dive safely, let alone a man. He says nothing. He makes no sound-not a whimper of fear, not a sigh of relief- as he jumps. He closes his eyes and waits, and waits. He is still falling. He hasn't snagged his clothing on some tree or ledge. His life doesn't seem to be flashing before him. Tom opens his eyes.

Beneath him, the water of the quarry is clear. A great serpent, with black teeth and glowing eyes smiles in welcome. Above him, saucers, Mothmen, and flying boys wearing x-ray specs fill the sky.

Just a reminder, the same castle that hides a vampire in its cellars keeps an enchanted princess in its tower. The same wilderness that is home to werewolves, banshees, hags is home to nymphs, leprechauns and unicorns. And that some happy endings can only be found, in the Twilight Zone.
Click to expand...

smurfslappa · Nov 13, 2006

http://doc-cathode.livejournal.com/2004/10/14/

That's a really good one, too. Jimmy Dean, mmm mmm.

Log in or Sign up

The Doc

smurfslappa New Member

smurfslappa New Member

Share This Page

Log in or Sign up

The Doc

smurfslappa New Member

smurfslappa New Member

Share This Page

Useful Searches