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Incoming BYTES
contains highly variable subject matter including commentary on the mundane, the extraordinary and even controversial issues. At Incoming BYTES
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Thursday, March 22, 2012

Tales of the Supernatural: The Pearl Stickpin

 From time to time at Incoming Bytes we are compelled to explore the unusual, the weird, and the downright strange world of fiction.  I really like fiction.  I have to admit, this is just plain weird, but it's spring, weather's weird anyway,  so  I hope you enjoy it. 

   Tales of the Supernatural:  The Pearl Stickpin

It seemed to me that the woman was not a real woman at first, she looked kind of rough around the edges just a bit,  but  she wore a woolen coat and a grey pillbox hat with a nice white pearl stickpin in it.
 A tantalizing bit of evidence,  in retrospect, anyway.
 Not appearing to be a real 'woman'  or 'lady' --well, no matter.    She appeared at the door on a Tuesday,  and it was 7:00 o'clock on July 7th.  My birthday, too. July 7th.  I forget the year.  I just go by what Sam told me. He's my older brother, dead of the pox  too, just a bit of an idiot sometimes.  He even drove the tractor in the creek when he was 8 and started crying. Pop  had to get old Mose  from down the 4th  to pull it out.  It cost two bits  and he got whupped.  

She squinted up at me.  "It's about time you and your idiot brother answered the door. Do you care to tell me what you are still  doing in my house? This is still my house, after all."  
She looked at me kind of strangely.  Like she knew me or something.  How did she know I had an idiot brother?  I wanted to keep that quiet so I could use his driver's license.

I said, "Lady, I don't have any idea where you're from, but I lived here for 77 years, my idiot brother died of the 'scootch 67 years ago. I'm just guessing but that wasn't even so far off of the truth, considering everything.

  After all, I had stayed right there in the old farmhouse for 77 years.  Born here, ain't leavin'.     That's why the neigbours call me Old Gus, because I am old.  Seventy-seven, so they say.  I don't have a birth certificate -or a driver's license either, but they never asked me for one. Not in 67 years. I kept an old business card in the visor holder instead,  It said  "Lunatic Renovation Service"  from down in Hansenville, and when it wore out I used my brother's license.   It's got itself worn out too,  now-- dog-eared.  It was my father's license  back when, too.  No wonder he used it, no idiot boy can get a driver's license so ya' gotta get one from 'yer old man or somethin',  somehow.

"Are you sure?" the woman asked.  "You don't know me, do you, sonny?...How come you you're looking so old?" 
"I got the scootch, like my idiot brother, he died of it already, 67 years ago, " I answered without thinking, it wasn't her business anyway, but I blabbed that to old Mose so often it didn't matter a whole lot,  "so he's dead an' gone  anyway".
Now she really  had me nervous because I have to admit I didn't know who she was. I guess I forgot.  She looked about thirty-five years old and had green eyes.  Tantalizing green eyes.   I got green eyes too, like a green-eyed shot-back ghost-colored  dog.
"I'm 'yer maw,  don'cha even know 'yer own maw?"  She said. "It's 'yer birthday, boy".
"I don't got any maw or old lady, she died when I was born,"  I said, " that's what the old man told me and my idiot brother and that's the truth, I swear". 

She sat down in the rocker,  a brown maple one. It groaned.
 "This was my chair when you was in my belly," she said, frowning. " and after you boys got the pox  when you was six, an' no bigger'n a pup,  you sat right here on my knee, and I rocked you right to sleep good,  you was turned cold, too,   now you can't  remember your Maw.  That figgers."

"I don't want to argue none, I just don't remember" I said. 
 "So  you're  my Maw, want some tea?"
"No,"  she said,  "Tea gives me the shivers,  just like visiting live folks." 
She got up and walked through the closed door.   I shook my head in wonderment.  She kept the hat on but left the white pearl stick pin stuck in the wood door.  I don't know why she does that.   
I ain't  never touching that stick-pin.  It gives me the shivers too. Like visiting live folks

Funny.  I remember I wanted to live 'till I was old enough to get a real driving license.


Is that incoming I hear?


  1. Well I am not sure I figured it all out..with your clever twist between the living and dead..or maybe its all a blur as it's meant to be. The hat pin.. now that brought back a memory..when I was a teen some of us carried a hatpin stuck through the center of our wallet to use for protection..LOL

    1. Hi Olivia, thanks for visiting! This story is meant to time-warp the mind, after all, it is the supernatural...(evil grin....) I have heard of ladies keeping those hatpins handy for sticking into doors and such....":)

  2. Nice, RAK. Very good crescendo of kookiness.

  3. hi Terry, thanks, -and thanks for visiting! Glad you enjoyed the weirdness. ":) ~R

  4. I love it. Not much of the supernatural fan, but this was really good, Ray.

    1. Thanks, Red! I'm glad you enjoyed it! pssst..thanks for visiting! ~R

  5. Love a twist in the tale Raymond and as you know Supernatural is my kinda thing! :-) have you ever been able to do any readings from items such as stick pins Raymond? I find objects hold fascinating information.. if one tunes ones senses to pick up the vibrations..
    A very good piece of writing Raymond, which took me there..
    Still not getting your new posts via the feed.. And it still tells me I am connected Wierd.. Sue x

    1. Sue, thank you for visiting! I appreciate your wonderful comments. No, I have not done any readings as such, but there are items that seem 'more than interesting'. I have no idea why you are not getting the new posts via the feed. That is weird! I do thank you for being so persistent! ~R

  6. Aha now I will add 'fiction writer' to your list of talents Raymond! Your Incoming today is highly enjoyable!

    1. Christyb, 'fiction writing' is actually my forté. I really like the genre, and I'm glad you enjoyed it. Christyb is on the lookout for fiction as well as poetry, we see! Thank you for visiting, it's good to see you! ~R

  7. Eerie and completely enjoyable. :-)


    1. It is kind of weird isn't it, Pearl, but then, --reading your wonderfully twisted and creative blog inspires! ....":) Thank you so much for your kind compliments! ~R

  8. Okay....when is that brother getting a visit?

    1. Lorre, I had to write this within 650 words for the challenge otherwise I would have had the idiot brother drop in too. It would have been perfect...":) That was very astute of you to observe that. ":)) Thanks for commenting! "~R

  9. Clever hitch at the end, this one.

    1. Thanks, Storm, it was actually clipped to 'flash fiction' and had another twist but the word limit disallowed 'adding another hitch'....":) Thanks for visiting! ~R


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