Showing posts with label October. Show all posts
Showing posts with label October. Show all posts

Saturday, October 31, 2015

Happy Halloween!

illustration from The Mysteries of Harris Burdick by Chris Van Allsburg


 The Bump under the Rug

“Ah! It’s a rat!” cried Mrs. Harris, my dear every Thursday bridge partner. “I’m not going in there anymore!”

“I’m telling you, it’s the fairies!” said tiny Mr. Field, with his tiny voice, trying to see something from behind Mrs. Harris who wouldn’t budge from the door despite her fear of rats. "They come every night!"

“Where’s your cat, Mr. James?” asked Barry, the delivery boy, in his usual cheeky tone.

“Right there,” I replied annoyed. Kitty was standing at the edge of the rug, too scared to attack, watching warily the big bump under the rug. The bump began moving again, even faster than before, toward that corner where the rug reached right underneath the big, old chest of drawers.

Under our four pairs of unbelieving eyes, the bump vanished. Kitty darted towards it, but it was too late.
Just like one week before. And one week before that, when it had first happened. Barry had been there too, and Mrs. Harris, and Mr. Field.

I said "good bye" to my neighbours, tipped Barry for delivering my bag of groceries from his uncle's store, and returned to my apartment.

I knew there was nothing behind the chest, because I had checked last time, but just to be sure, I checked again. Nothing. At least my neighbours had seen it too so I wasn't imagining things.

That night I didn't go to bed. I sat on the armchair, with a baseball bat in my right hand and a plastic bowl in the other, and waited. I was determined not to fall asleep this time so I didn't eat anything, not even the almond cake. Barry's uncle made a terrific cake.

Soon after midnight, I heard a scraping sound. I kept still, pretending to be asleep, but I was watching carefully. Soon enough, a bump began moving under the rug, from the corner underneath the chest. When it reached the center of the room, I jumped and threw the bowl over it.

Whatever it was, I had caught it.

"Let me go!" said a tinny voice.

I fell on my back.

The bump wasn't moving anymore, but it looked like it was shaking. Kitty was hissing loudly and wagging his tail.

"Who's talking?" I managed to say. "Who are you?"

"Let me go and I'll tell you."

"Talk, or I won't let you go. Who are you?"

"I'm the previous owner of the apartment above yours..."

Mr. Allen? How could that be? I knew him well. We'd been neighbours for twenty years. He'd recently sold his apartment and had moved to Florida. The apartment was rented now by a young woman, Miss Jones. How could that be?

"Do you like almond cake?" the tinny voice continued. "So did I... so much that I ate some every night. Barry's still delivering it, I see. All full of Uncle Gary's black magic. Until one night, it will be Uncle Gary delivering the cake. His spell will turn you into a doll too. A little, animated, docile doll...And then you too you'll have to obey him. Go through the apartments, steal things, scare people into selling them dirt-cheap to... guess who? Uncle Gary..."

Poor doll guy Mr. Allen. I felt sorry for him. I let him go after he promised not to bother me anymore. In fact, he was quite scared of Kitty so he was somehow glad that I found him so he couldn't come to my apartment anymore.
  
As for me, that was the last time I was going to eat almond cake, or any cake for that matter.

 Happy, Spooky Halloween!

And these are my carved pumpkins for this year...





 

Friday, October 31, 2014

Trick or Trick


We gave him a good face, not too scary, not too funny. The mouth was a bit too big but it looked great with the light inside.

When we came back from our trick-or-treating, the pumpkin was still looking fierce, although the candle was almost extinguished and the top was almost cooked.

Before we went to bed, we took him back inside. We didn’t want the squirrels or the skunk to eat him.

“Where’s all the candy?” the oldest said the next day.

“I put it in the pumpkin,” the youngest cried. “The pumpkin ate it all!”

“No, you ate it all,” the oldest said.

They went on quarrelling.

The pumpkin sat on the kitchen floor and seemingly watched us all with his big eyes. Did he want to say something with his big mouth or was he grinning?

“I’m telling you, this is an evil pumpkin,” the youngest said. “I know, the squirrels! Put him outside and the squirrels will take care of him.”

So back he was next to the front door.

“What’s this pumpkin doing back inside?” I said in the evening.

“I didn’t bring him in,” the oldest said.

“I didn’t bring him in,” the youngest said.

Out with him again. Maybe the squirrels hadn’t been hungry the day before.

The next morning, who was grinning from the kitchen table?

The pumpkin.

“Mom,” the youngest said. “Maybe we should let him stay. I’m not cross with him anymore.”

So, he’s back in. Watching the room from a corner. Grinning. He’s just as orange and nice as he was on Halloween. So many months later. The cat doesn’t go near him. We make sure no candy goes next to him.

We confess, we’re a bit scared of him, but he’s ours, isn’t he? And if he keeps looking this good, we might not have to carve another for this Halloween.

Happy Halloween, everybody!!!



 

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

The Flying Dutchman Redivivus




Come…
Come…
Come…

What whisper summons me?
Is it the wind
in drying leaves?

Come to me…

Whispers of doom,
or hoot of owls
or howls of wolves?

Come...
I am coming, yes…
The whispers grow,
and whirl, and growl…
In their cold embrace,
I glide
on the dark shore,
in noctambulous walk.
The sea - a beast of tar -
sends rumbling surf,
torn veils
of phantom brides,
onto the sand.

Come to me…

From far, from near,
a song of death
and love
entwined.
I am here…
I see the ghostly ship,
its masts, and spars, and sails
bleak statues of decay,
no living soul on it
yet full of empty souls.
My home,
to make of thee?
A stir in me…
Run, I could
still run away!
Too late,
the boat slides
nearer.

My bride… Come…

Ghosts
ply the oars.
And at its bow
I see your eyes of fire
bear down on me
with sweet
infernal
love.
Like in a dream,
I step into the waves.

Come…

I’m coming…
My robes are heavy
chains held by Okeanos.
Unearthly arms of fog
extend to help me.
How proud you are,
tall at the prow,
your gaze of embers
lights your
handsome face -
a beacon
in my night.

Come quicker… Hurry…

But what is this?
I falter,
my eyes still
in your hypnotic grasp.
Shouts, vile barks,
thunder of guns
awaken me, while
torches light the sand.
The sea’s aflame.
The spectral boat
is fading,
multitudes close in.
A step
and then another,
The sea embraces me.

Come…

I almost touch your hand.
Strong voices call my name,
voices alive,
not... dead…
My struggle’s vain
I’m dragged away
pulled from your ghostly grip
by warm, live arms of men.
I know, my darling,
all is lost,
until next time…
And, as I close my eyes
against the burning night,
carried afar,
your waning whisper echoes
on my face,

Next time…



This is my entry for Haunting October Blogfest. This poem has appeared on this blog exactly six years ago, as part of my first Halloween in the blogosphere... The painting of the ship belongs to Marco Hassman at Last Travel Art. Comments are, as always, most welcome. Happy Scares!

Friday, October 19, 2012

Counting



A ghoul or two
have come to you
You only took
three seconds, or four
to open the door
Five ravens, no, six
began flapping their wings
Wisps of mist,
seven, eight,
rose from the grave
Then she came
with nine whispers, or ten
Oh, the terror, oh, the pain
of seeing her again…

Sunday, October 31, 2010

The Great Pumpkin Ball

For your enjoyment, here are a few of the participants at this year's Great Pumpkin Ball at the Montreal Botanical Gardens.

Happy, Sweet, Spooky Halloween!











Monday, October 11, 2010

The Magic of Lanterns

Every October of this blog I have written and posted here two or three Halloween pieces - poems and little stories that some of you have read.

I don’t feel like doing it this year. This is partly because I’m reluctant to take away from the little time and energy I have for my novel. Most of all, though, it is a consequence of what happened to Rick Moore, whose story was shamelessly stolen. And his was in a published anthology...

So, although it makes me happy to know that good people, like my blog friends, are reading my work here, I’m appalled at the thought that others might have vile intentions with it... What has been posted stays... but with a bad aftertaste... For they too are my children, aren’t they? I’d hate to know that somewhere they’re treated badly...

However, I must honour the season, for I love it. Thus, I give you some pictures I took on Sunday in the Montreal Botanical Gardens.

The Chinese Garden was alight with the magic of lanterns... This year’s theme was Like a Painting, inspired by a traditional Chinese painting, Qing Ming Shang He Tu. An artist from the Song Dynasty painted it in 1127 on a 5.28-metre silk scroll. It depicts the lives of the inhabitants of the city of Bianjing on the day of the Qing Ming festival, when the Chinese honour their ancestors.

And while we stroll among the lanterns, we can always think of some traditional Chinese ghost stories...