Month: December 2015

New Short Story: “Amery Krissmass”

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Alternately titled: Now I want some figgy pudding too

Somewhere out there, I’m pretty sure a dialogue like this occurred:

Krissmass, amirite?

“Wee wishyewe amery krissmas.”

What in the seven stars of Sky Bear is that?

Hey! Look! We have visitors.

“Wee wishYEWE amery krissmas”

Hello! Nice clothes! And I see you like boating!

We’ve got boats too but we tend to stick to the shore.

It’s a traditional thing. We like having our families back together at the end of the day.

“Wee wishyewe amery chrissmas and a Happy New Year!”

Well, sad to say, New Year was a few months back, stranger. It’s winter now. But thanks!

And what’s all this about “Amery Krissmas”?

Good tidings we bring to you and your kin;

Good tidings for KRISSmas and a Happy New Year.

Oh! Thanks for that. Always happy to have good tidings.

So what’s the Kriss mas thing about. Is that like a party?

The most IMPORTANT party. His Birthday. Born of God, he came to save us all.

Great! So he’s like your people’s hero. We have one of those! Man-Greets-the Sunrise!

No, no no. Our Son of God came to save us ALL. Everyone. Even your people!

Really? Cause I haven’t heard of him. What did he do?

God was his father. And he fed people through miracles and wise men showered him with gifts and he walked on water, and came back from the dead and RAISED the dead and made wine and threw out demons!

Are you sure we’re not talking about the same guy? Man-Greets-the-Sunrise was son of the sea god and all the leaders bowed down to him and he walked in and out of the land of the dead and he raised the sun with his penis…

NO! No penis. Our God does not believe in the penis! His son is beyond all the fleshy things.

Yeah, but he’s a son, right? That means he’s got a…


So how did your god get the baby into…

NO PENIS! It was a miracle.

Okaaayyy. So fair enough. How do you know he’s supposed to save everyone.

It says so in the buhk

What’s a buhk?

It’s this thing here.

The thing with all the lines? Are those supposed to be pictures? Cause honestly, my kid draws better than that.

No! It’s a buhk! It tells us all about the miracle. Like this. ‘In the same region there were some shepherds staying out in the fields and keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord suddenly stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them; and they were terribly frightened. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord” That’s from Luke.

Hunh. Place you come from is hot?


Asked if the place you come from is hot. Cause who keeps their flock out during the winter? It’s too cold, man.

Not that argument again. Look it says it happened in the buhk, so it happened. The buhk can’t lie!

Who says the buhk can’t lie?


Okay, stranger, I think we’re getting a little heated here. It’s okay… really. So why are you here?

Oh. “Bring us a figgy pudding; Oh, bring US a figgy pudding; Oh, BRING US a figgy pudding and a cup of good cheer”

Well, yeah, a cup of good cheer; we got that. We all like a cup of good cheer! But… what’s a fig?

It’s the fruit of a gynodioecious (functionally dioecious), deciduous tree or large shrub native to the Middle East of Asia.

Sorry, mate, but that’s a long way from here. We don’t have any. Would you like some casava pudding? It’s good.

We won’t go until we get some;

Well, I’m sorry about that, but I don’t even know if that would grow here.

We won’t go until we get some;

How am I supposed to do that?

It’s easy. You just take this thing called a spayduh… like THIS one (thanks, Franz!) and you RIP UP THE GROUND and then you rub cow shit all over it and if it doesn’t work there are SUPPLEMENTS and WORMS and…

That was my patch of favorite flowers! Why would you do that?

We won’t go until we get some

So bring some out here

Look mate, I told you before, we haven’t got–


Bring the spayduh, Franz. We’ve got some planting to do. Stupid heathens.

New Short Story: “Gone Fishing” (preview)

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Hello Peregrine Dunn. What are you up to?

Started a short story set in the Peregrine Dunn universe.  Here’s how it went…

There’s a cave I was told about, long time ago. Plenty of people been in it; scrawled on the walls, smoked a little happy puff, played at being adults. Wouldn’t find a person who spent the night though. Reasons.

Go in there when the moon’s full; say, around the time of the equinoxes or the solstices, you might find the cave’s gotten a bit longer than you remember. Maybe there’s that shadowy back you never quite went down leads to something stranger, a tunnel leading to a deeper cave and then one after that and one after that.

So there you are, pretty deep under, in earthquake territory, with the walls kind of humming-or is it vibrating? Or waiting?—and you’re hoping you’re not the world’s greatest idiot when you come across the pool.

Now, you may have heard about stuff like this before, or you may not. Some pools they grow a little moss or maybe it’s a type of fish or maybe it’s some kind of chemical in the water but they have themselves a certain kind of glow. You can see something like it on some beaches sometimes—beautiful sight—but this is a little different.

Opalescent, meaning like a pearl, fainter than the beach lights but doesn’t matter. Cave’s so dark at this point, that the pool appears to light everything up like the moon. Just like the full moon, come to think of it.

So here you are, full moon pool, who in the seven hells knows how far from the surface, and you might figure that this is a place for some very, very interesting fishing. And you might have on you a very curious piece of fishing line that you’ve been carrying along for an occasion just like this.

This line might have been woven by an Ojibwe woman, in proper spirit, in proper ways, just like you’d weave  the line for a dreamcatcher, like old woman spider Asibikaashi taught her People. Except this wasn’t in the shape of a web, but in a corded line, inspired by the old dream-weaver herself but a sight bigger than most would expect.

These things do happen.

And you might also, in your pocket, have a bone fish-hook. And this fish-hook might have been carved out by an ali’i man, in proper spirit, in proper ways, inspired by Maui’s hook at Hamakua, found again by gazing up at Manaiakalani in the sky, which Europeans insist should be called Scorpius, until that bone is just the right shape and size.

These things do happen.

Alongside this spider dream-weaver fishing line and island-raising inspired fish-hook, you might just be carrying some bamboo, using it first as a walking stick. After all, long way up to the cave. Long way back, too. Figure it would come in handy. And not really inspired by anything. Nothing very magical about it. Just a tough piece of grass that holds itself like a tree. Strong too.

It might be that having something mundane is the perfect anchor when fishing for a god.

So, that’s how I happened to end up fishing, at a pool, in a cave, under the earth, and wrestled up Baron Samedi from the lands of the restless dead.

More to come…