About Us
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Issue #4:
Stanely Finds a Vortex,
by Randy Tanner
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There's a Lot of Letters in Rumplestiltskin,
by Robert Neilson
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An Ingenious Adventure,
by Jason Sizemore
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A Failure of Self-Help,
by Rosalind Barden
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Stony Weather,
by T.P. Keating
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Stanely Finds a Vortex
by Randy Tanner
It wasn't much bigger than a postage stamp. Not one of those generic
ones with a flag or a portrait of some famous poet or architect that
nobody ever heard of except another poet or architect. It was more like the
Elvis stamp, except just a little bigger.
I was kind of between jobs at the time. Work at the foundry had pretty
much dried up. Then, about a week after the layoff, my friend, Tubby Lakes,
gave me a call and said he had a stack of old magazines he was about to
throw out. Tubby bought about every magazine on the shelf whenever he
made a trip to the 7-11. He kept most of them in a big pile next to his
commode. I don't think he read any of them. He just wanted them there in
case he got the urge to look at the pictures.
Anyway, about once every month or two, Tubby would clean out that stack
of magazines and give most of them to the Goodwill. Only this time he asked
me if I wanted them. Maybe he heard I was out of work and thought I might
want to catch up on my reading. But, knowing Tubby, the Goodwill box was
probably full.
I figured I had some spare time, so I packed up the stack of magazines,
stuck them in the trunk of my Buick and took them back to my apartment on
36th East Avenue. Tubby didn't give me any of the girly books, especially
the Playboys. He said he kept them for the articles, but for some reason I
kind of doubt it.
About a week later, there wasn't much on TV and I was pretty bored; so I
started looking through that stack of magazines. There on the top of the
pile was a copy of Popular American Mechanix. Right away I remembered how
my father used to read it when I was a kid. I figured there might be
some good ads in it, so I flipped to the back, where the ads usually are.
Sure enough, there it was.
Just below the ad for the Cable TV Descramblers and the "Asian Ladies,
Sincerely Seeking Relationships," was this postage stamp sized box, without
any pictures or anything. It was just there at the bottom of the page, all
by itself.
Fulfill All Your Dreams
Send for free brochure
Bellmyer Scientific
PO Box 23057
Sarasota, New Mexico
It sounded good, so I sent them a note.
Sure enough, about a week or so later, I get a letter back from the
Bellmyer Scientific Company out of Sarasota, New Mexico, with three
regular sized, black and white copied pages. It didn't look like any
brochure I'd ever seen before. It looked more like some outfit that was too
cheap to have something nice printed up.
Anyway, this "brochure" proceeds to explain all about this thing called
the Thurman Tripulator. "Constructed from material recovered from a UFO
downed in the New Mexico desert," it said, and, "This device will allow you
to achieve everything in life you've ever wanted, and more."
It was probably the "and more" that sold it. I guess I really never
wanted to achieve that much, but if they were going to give me "more," I
figured I'd take it. It was only $79.95 plus postage and handling. I had a
lot more than that left from my last check from the foundry. Besides, it
came with a thirty day, money back guarantee.
About three or four weeks later, I get this cardboard box in the mail.
Had to sign for it and everything. After I dug out about a million of
those stupid plastic peanuts, I found a sheet of paper and a little silver
box. The silver box had a hole with a red light inside, and a black button
with a Plexiglas guard over it. I guess that was so you wouldn't set it off
by accident. The instruction sheet didn't say much.
Congratulations, and welcome to the world of infinite possibilities. On
April 12, 1956, a mysterious craft crashed near Roswell, New Mexico.
Although original reports indicated this craft was of unknown origin, the
official account, released some time later, reported it to be a weather
balloon. Some years later, a classified document discovered by a government
scientist described the real identity of this object. It was an
interstellar craft, downed by a missile fired from a US aircraft.
Fortunately, an electronic device was retrieved from the crash site by a
civilian. After serious negotiation, this device was procured and analyzed
by our team of distinguished scientists. Numerous years of study finally
unlocked the secret of the device. The result was the Thurman Tripulator.
You now own one of the very few of these to be produced. Please use it with
care.
The rest of the sheet explained how to use the thing. "Important
Warning," the sheet said. "Allow at least one week between uses in order
for the Tripulator to properly recharge. Overuse may cause dangerous
malfunctions that could result in serious injury or death." I read that
part two or three times. It sounded like something I wouldn't want to
forget.
"To operate:" the sheet went on, "Place the Tripulator on a flat surface
in an unobstructed area at least twenty feet in diameter. Press the
activation button and wait until the red light begins to blink before
entering the vortex. Never, under any circumstances, enter the vortex while
the red light is inactive."
To be honest, I wasn't quite sure what a vortex was. For some reason, I
thought it might be one of those fancy Italian sports cars. What it turned
out to be was a really big mess. A vortex is something you never want to
turn loose in an upstairs garage apartment.
I guess I was really excited about getting my hands on that fancy car and
I forgot about that part where it said to operate in an unobstructed area.
I sat the little box down on my coffee table, flipped back the Plexiglas
guard and pushed the black button.
Almost right away, the box started making this high-pitched humming noise
that sounded like the time I shorted the speaker wire in my first car. Then
this beam of light shot out the side of the box and made a circle over by my
chest of drawers.
I couldn't believe what happened next. It was like somebody dropped a
bunch of different colored paints in a bucket and began to stir them in a
big circle. It was really kind of pretty. Pretty soon, the colors were
going around so fast I couldn't see anything but a blur. Then all hell
broke loose.
That circle of colors began to scream like a freight train. Everything
on top of my chest of drawers started to fly through the room and crash
against the walls. It broke almost every dish I had, but the most important
thing it broke was that new bottle of Old Spice. Now there's a smell that
sticks around for a while, especially in a shag carpet.
Anyway, there I was, running around the room like crazy, trying to figure
out what to do. The box didn't have an "off" switch. I figured I'd just
leave and come back in an hour or so. That would give things a chance to
settle down. But then something really strange happened. The blurry circle
turned into something that looked like a stubby sideways tornado.
Everything in the room got still. It was all pretty strange. Then the
little red light on the box blinked about five times and everything
stopped. The circle shrunk up to nothing and just disappeared.
For about five minutes I sat there on the floor like an idiot, and looked
around at the broken stuff on the floors and smelled Old Spice. Then there
was this pounding on the door. Mrs. Godsley, the landlady, was yelling real
loud, asking me if there was a party or something in my apartment. I yelled
back and told her that my TV volume got stuck, turned all the way up. She
yelled something real nasty back at me about my parents or something. Then
she went away.
I tried to pick the little box up off the coffee table, but it was so hot
I burned my fingers. Then I remembered the part where it said to let the
thing rest for a week before operating it again. The next morning I hid it
on the top shelf of my closet.
It was just about a week later when I ran into Ernie Glunt. I was out
looking for work cause I'd spent most of my money cleaning up the mess that
vortex had made and thought I'd pay old Ernie a visit. Ernie was one of
those types who liked to tinker with things. He liked to take things apart
put them back together just for fun. Things like VCR's and car engines,
real complicated stuff. Never could understand why. Guess he was just that
way.
Anyway, I began to tell old Ernie about this Tripulator thing and he got
really interested. He told me to bring it to the garage where he worked,
after it closed up for the night. He said after all the cars were gone
there was plenty of unobstructed space and the noise wouldn't bother
anybody.
When I got to the garage that night, the first thing Ernie wanted to do
was take the Tripulator apart. I reminded him about the time he took apart
that color TV and almost shocked himself to death. Instead, I gave him the
instruction sheet and he read it two or three times. Then he got one of
those red tool cabinets on coasters and rolled it to the center of the
garage floor.
I was getting pretty excited at this point. Nobody had ever seen my
Tripulator in action, except
for me. I thought Ernie would probably be
pretty impressed. I sat the thing in the middle of the top of that red tool
cabinet, flipped back the Plexiglas guard and pushed the black button.
Just like before, it started making that funny noise. Then the tool
cabinet started to shake something awful. It jumped around for a little bit
before one of the wheels got stuck in the drain grating. When the light
came out the side and the swirling colors started, I looked over at Ernie.
His jaw was nearly on the floor. He took off his stocking hat, scratched
his head and took another look at the instruction sheet.
Then Ernie did one of the stupidest things I'd ever seen a man do in my
life. Here this tool cabinet was jumping around like a jackhammer, stuff
was flying through the air crashing against the walls, and this vortex was
whirling around like a sideways tornado. Ernie looked down, saw that the
little red light blinking, handed me the instruction sheet and jumped right
in the middle of the thing. There was a noise like a giant bug zapper.
Then the vortex shrunk up and disappeared. Craziest thing I'd ever seen.
I looked around and started calling Ernie. I didn't have any idea where
he went. The only thing I knew was that he wasn't inside the garage
anymore. He wasn't under any of the cars or in the bathroom or anything. I
started to get real nervous and upset because I knew I'd have to explain
what happened to him once the police got there, after I called them and told
them I'd killed him.
Then it hit me. I could just take my Tripulator and leave. Nobody would
ever know the difference. If Ernie came back from where ever he was,
everything would be okay. If not, I'd just play dumb. Nobody else knew I
was there. The way I saw it, whatever happened to Ernie was his own fault.
I didn't make him jump inside that vortex.
Just like the time before, the Tripulator was hot as fire. I wrapped it
up in some of those rusty colored shop towels, so I wouldn't burn myself,
and headed out the door. Then the weirdest thing happened. I noticed
somebody sitting outside on the curb. I walked up to see who it was and
almost fell over. It was Ernie. He had this real strange look on his face,
and just stared off into space. I asked him if he was okay.
"It's all so simple," he said. "Now I understand."
I asked him where he went after he jumped into the vortex and he told me
there was no way to explain it. The only way I would know was to go in
myself. He stood up, gave me a hug and said, You have to go in there, Stan.
I promise you won't regret it."
I figured he must have hit his head or something. After I looked around
to see if anyone was watching, I told him he'd be fine in a day or two.
Then I went home and tried to find the box that Tripulator thing came in so
I could send it back and get a refund. The box was nowhere to be found. I
figured I'd probably run onto it in the next few days, so I hid the
Tripulator back on the top shelf in my closet.
About a week later, there was a knock at my door. It was Ernie. He
looked really good. He had on a suit, his hair was cut and he'd polished
his shoes. He even smelled nice. Every other time I'd seen him, he smelled
like grease and sweat. I asked him in.
After he sat down, he proceeded to tell me how he'd developed a new type
of computer hardware. He said he'd been to the bank to get a loan so he
could start his own business. Then he said it was all because of me and the
Tripulator. He wanted to know when I was going in.
I reminded him that the thing had to recharge for a week before I could
use it again. He said he knew that. It was the reason he'd come to see me.
He handed me the keys to the garage and told me to do it as soon as
possible. He said there would be a place in his new business for me as soon
as I went in. Then he left.
I thought about what Ernie said for a long time that night. He looked
good and all, but maybe something on the other side of that vortex had sent
back a copy of him, like an evil twin or something. Then I remembered the
skull tattoo on the back of his hand. It was still there. If they had made
a copy of him, they probably wouldn't have done the tattoo. It was real
ugly and the skull head was all lopsided.
The next night, I pulled the Tripulator down from the shelf and drove
over to the garage. I took a look in the window to make sure everyone was
gone home for the night. Then I unlocked the door and went inside.
This time I rolled the tool cabinet to the center of the floor and stuck
one of the wheels down into the grating so it wouldn't jump all over the
place, like it did the last time. Then I put the Tripulator down on top of
the cabinet, flipped back the Plexiglas guard and pushed the button.
Just like before, the cabinet jumped around and things flew through the
air. Then, just as the vortex started whirling around, I began to wonder if
old Ernie had hit his head on something while he was in there. He sure
acted different, like someone who had been hit on his head. I knew I didn't
want to hit my head. Better safe than sorry, I thought. I waited till the
thing shut down, wrapped it up in rusty colored shop towels and took it back
home.
The next week I was ready. I paid a visit to my brother Ben, who had
played football in high school, and borrowed his helmet, the silver and blue
one. When he asked me what I needed it for, I told him it was for a
scientific experiment. He thought that was funny, but he let me have it
anyway.
When I got to the garage, all the lights were out. Everyone was gone for
the night. I unlocked the door, wheeled the tool cabinet over onto the
grate and sat the Tripulator on top. Then I put on the silver and blue
helmet and pulled the strap real tight.
For a minute or two, I just stood there and thought about all the great
things I was about to see. I pushed the button, stood back and waited. It
was real exciting.
Just like before, the circle started spinning and the tool cabinet
started jumping, and stuff started flying through the air like a hurricane.
The vortex appeared and I looked down at the Tripulator. Sure enough, the
red light was blinking. I took a deep breath.
Then it hit me. What was I thinking? I was about to miss a pure gold
opportunity. The red light stopped blinking and the vortex shrunk up to
nothing. I stood there and shook my head. If I took a camera along with
me, I could probably sell the pictures for a million dollars. That Enquirer
magazine would probably give me at least that much.
I packed up the box in shop rags and headed for home.
The next week I'd managed to borrow a camera from my brother. It was one
of those instant kinds where it shoots out the picture, and you can stand
there and watch it develop. That was what I wanted because I could see what
was inside that vortex right away, and wouldn't have to wait a week for the
pictures to come back.
By the time I got to the garage, I came up with another idea. Why not
just tie the camera on to a stick or something and shove it inside. That
way I could sell the picture and be rich. After that, all the vortex would
have to do is make me smart. Besides, I wanted to have some kind of idea
what to expect once I went in.
Well, I taped the camera to the end of a broomstick and rigged up a
string and paper clip to click the shutter switch. Then I tested the thing
out on the tool cabinet. Sure enough, I got a pretty good picture of it.
Even though I knew I wasn't going in, I went ahead and put on the
football helmet. That vortex was pretty bad about throwing things through
the air.
Anyway, I rolled the tool cabinet over the floor grate, sat the
Tripulator on top of the cabinet and pushed the button on the box. Then I
pulled the strap on the helmet real tight and waited. Just like the
times before, the air whirled around and things crashed against the walls.
After a minute or so, things
got calm and the red light on the box
started blinking. Real quick like, I shoved the camera inside and
pulled the string.
Just a second or two after I pulled the camera out, the vortex shrunk up
and disappeared. I yanked off the helmet, pulled out the picture, sat down
in the floor and waited.
Now, I have to admit, what developed on that picture might not have been
the easiest thing to understand, but I knew what it was. There were all
these colors, all swirled around like different colored paint in a bucket.
Even though I couldn't make anything out, it was pretty unusual.
I packed up and went home.
The next day, I took the picture to the newspaper. I thought I'd let
them have first shot at it because I didn't know where the office for the
Enquirer was. Besides, I'd heard the local paper did a real good job.
Just as soon as I walked through the door, this lady behind a counter
asks if she could help me.
I smiled and put the picture on the counter. "Thought I'd give you the
first chance to run this in your paper," I said.
"What is it?" she asked.
"It's the inside of a vortex," I answered. "Probably the only picture
like it in the world."
She studied it for a minute or two and said, "It looks like a picture of
different colored paints in a big bucket. We can't publish this type of
photo anyway. It has to come with a negative, preferably 35 mm." Then she
handed it back to me.
I felt a little unhappy when I walked out. I didn't have a camera like
that, and it was a pretty good bet that nobody else I knew did either. For
a minute I thought about calling my old girlfriend, Arlene. She might have
been able to get one. But I figured she was still mad at me. The last time
I saw her, she said I was lazy, and then she walked out on me. I figured
once I went through the Tripulator, all that would change.
That night I went through the bargain papers, looking for a good deal on
one of those fancy 35-mm cameras, but they were all on the pricey side. I
hadn't had a steady paycheck since the layoff. About the last thing I could
afford was an expensive camera.
It's funny how things work out. The next morning Mr. Newly called from
the foundry and said they had just signed a big contract with the
government. He said I could work as many hours as I wanted, until the
contract ran out.
I didn't have to think about it very long. I told him I'd be in first
thing in the morning. The thought of going back to work really didn't
thrill me a lot. I figured as soon as I had enough money for a good camera,
I could fire up the Tripulator. After that, I'd be smart, like Ernie, and
then I could start my own business. I'd probably wind up rich and famous.
Now, just between you and me, I never planned on working that much over
the next year, but I had a load of bills to pay. My old Buick was on its
last leg and that garage apartment was way too cramped. I even got one of
those fancy cameras. One of the old boys down at the foundry got a
divorce and had to sell it. It was one of those 35-mm jobs with something
called a 28-140 zoom lens and a detachable flash. He gave me a good deal on
it. I never did take any pictures with it, but I was ready when I finally
went inside that vortex.
As for the Tripulator. Well, every night when I got home I'd think about
pulling it down from the closet and making a trip to the garage, but I
was always hot, tired and all sweaty. After I took a shower, I'd settle
down and watch a little TV and maybe have a couple of beers. By then I was
ready for bed. I figured I could always do it later.
I did have a few days off during that time, but it seemed like there was
always something to do. Arlene moved in with me, and just about every
weekend she had some oddball thing planned, like visiting her parents and
all. I really didn't mind all that much. Her stepfather, Jim, was always
willing to head down to the lake and do some fishing. That gave Arlene a
chance to catch up on things with her mother. That kept her off my back, if
you know what I mean.
Arlene asked me about the Tripulator a couple of times when she'd clean
the closet, but I really didn't want to tell her the truth about it. I
figured she'd want to go through the vortex before I did, like Ernie had,
and I'd never see her again. I just told her it was a fancy cable
descrambler that picked up all those X-rated adult channels. She never
asked me to hook it up.
Well, about six months ago, after that government contract ran out, the
work dried up and I got laid off again. The day after that, Arlene handed
me a newspaper and told me to start looking for a new job. I really didn't
feel like finding a new job that soon, but I did look through the newspaper.
Just as I was browsing through the business section, I saw an article
about this computer hardware corporation, and sure enough, there was old
Ernie Glunt's picture, plain as day. It said he'd just closed a big deal to
buy another computer company. The article also talked about how his net
worth was now in excess of eleven million dollars. Eleven million dollars!
Hell, that was enough to convince me.
I dug out my brother's football helmet, put a new roll of film in my 35
mm camera, with the 28-140 zoom lens, packed up the Tripulator and waited
for sundown. I told Arlene I was headed for a real special nighttime job
interview.
It had been about a year, so I wasn't sure my key to the garage would
still work. I was pretty pleased when the door opened right up. Just like
the times before, it was deserted and mostly empty. I rolled over that metal
tool cabinet and sat the Tripulator on top.
I was pretty excited because I knew I was going in this time. I wasn't
even going to mess with the camera on the stick. But I did tie it around my
neck, just in case I saw something interesting. Then I put on the helmet
and pulled the strap tight.
For a minute or two, I stood there and tried to think if I'd forgotten
anything. Nothing came to mind, so I pushed the button. The air blew,
stuff flew and the vortex started, well, vortexing. Then, as the red light
started blinking, I tried to remember whether Ernie had gone in just as the
blinking light started or just as it was getting ready to quit. I wanted to
make sure and do it just like he had. But, before I could figure it out,
the red light stopped and the vortex shrunk up to nothing.
I stood there and cussed for a minute. Then I said, "What the heck, I'll
just do it over." So, I pushed the button...again.
Now, on the list of the ten dumbest things I've ever done, that had to
rank real near the top. Just as soon as I pushed that button, the
Tripulator made this screaming noise, and almost immediately I
remembered the part in the instructions where it said to let the thing wait
a week before operating it again, and especially that part about the
death or serious injury.
Well, the Tripulator acted like it was going to do something pretty
weird. It turned white hot and started spinning in circles. Then, pretty
soon, that metal tool cabinet started twisting around like a piece of hot
taffy. The drawers popped open and tools came shooting out at about a
million miles an hour.
I figured it was a pretty good time to leave for a while. I grabbed the
camera and took off out the door.
The next day, the paper said there had been a gas leak in the garage.
There wasn't a whole lot left of it after the explosion. As far as the
Tripulator went, it was probably scattered from here to Kentucky.
As for me, things have gone pretty well. I've got a fairly good job
working night security at Ernie's computer hardware company. He probably
pays me more than he should, but I don't mind. He called me up just after he
heard about the garage explosion and wanted to know if I was okay. I
told him I was, but I hadn't got to go through the vortex before the
Tripulator blew up. He said he understood. Then he offered me a job.
About a month ago I sent a letter to the Bellmyer Scientific Company out
of Sarasota, New Mexico. I said that I wanted to buy another one of those
Tripulators. But the letter came back with a purple stamp on it that said,
"Return to sender. Address unknown."
I can't complain too much, though. As long as I have a job, Arlene will
probably stick around. We might even tie the knot someday. It's just that
every once in a while, I start wondering what might have happened if I'd
gone through that vortex, like Ernie did.
Every time I'm in the 7-11, I stop by the magazine rack, pick up a copy
of Popular American Mechanix and check out the stuff in the back. One of
these days, I imagine I'll find another postage stamp size ad from the
Bellmyer Scientific Company. Maybe I'll order another one of those
Tripulators, and, who knows? This time I just might go through.
The End
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