Chapter Nine of "The Shasta Caper" is now posted.

Chapter Nine

He adjusted his orange robes so they wouldn't tangle in his legs as he dropped into the martial arts pose he had been taught by the Master.

The Master looked at him along his squat orange nose and smiled. "You must move as gracefully as a drop of water from a bee's leg and as fast as the dart of a hummingbird."

Gung Suay nodded, causing his long pig tail to toss behind his back.

The other students of the Master stood in an array about the two of them.

The Master had promised this would be the last test before Gung Suay was given the Orange Belt, a symbol of mastery of perfect balance between spiritual and physical forces. He was proud to be facing his Master this day, for he had been born to be a great fighter. He had known that from the first day he had seen the Master easily take down a tiger with one blow, without harming it, just putting it to sleep.

For the philosophy of the Master was Ahimsa, do no harm. It was a term he had picked up from his travels in India with his wife Shanti, whom he had met during his travels across China, teaching and practicing his minimalist art, which involved using the hair of a fly to do three strokes on the head of a grain of sand. His artwork was so precise and authentically beautiful that even the Emperor of China had purchased all his work rather than see it lost to the masses.

"Now, feel the force of your will coming into balance with the force of the Light within, Gung Suay." The Master told him.

The Master's eyes narrowed. "You will  only have one attempt to do this right. Mastery can not come through repeats. You lose. You die."

"I understand, Master." He told him, again loosening further his robes, for he knew his life depended on him being so precise that even a blink could throw him off the mark.

The Master nodded, then reached into a satchel he carried and brought out a deadly adder. If it struck you with its fangs, you would be dead in five heartbeats. 

The Master stroked its head gently. The creature was mesmerized by the Master's touch and his energies, swaying gently as if drunk by the exposure to the kindness of the Master.

The other pupils held their breathes, for the adder would be a deadly dart once let go of, for the influence of the Master would be gone.

"Whatever happens, Gung Suay. I want you to know that I am proud of you."

Gung Suay inclined his head in a semi-bow. "And I you, Master."

When he looked up at the sound of gasps the adder was already almost in the center of his chest. As quick as that glance was his reflexes were faster, he curved slightly to the right and gently stroked the adder's head, then tail as it passed him, then caught it in a furl of his robe and gently unfurled it into his palm, where he blew his warm breath upon it.

The adder shot up as if to strike him, then it went limp and lay in his palm and went to sleep.

The pupils all burst into applause. 

The applause startled the adder and it struck Gung Suay by accident.

He saw a beautiful halo of white light grow before him and his Master's smiling face, then he stepped into the light and was gone.

WHAM!

One Rat Short...a very thoughtful CGI short

The Shasta Caper, Chapter Six is now on blogger!

Chapter Eight

Samuel flipped foreword, barely catching himself before he slammed his head into the seat in front of him, which was just coming back. He caught himself and steadied his trembling arms a moment, before carefully reseating himself.

"You all right, Sammie?"

"Later." Whispered Samuel, making a motion with his eyes to behind him.

Jimbo didn't look. He knew the signal well. Trouble. Big trouble.

Samuel waited until everyone in the cabin had settled down,  including the man behind him, who soon fell asleep and was snoring. Samuel double checked, using his window glass reflection to look at the man. He was out like a light. No wonder after what he had done earlier that night. Probably scared to death and worried about being caught too. 

Samuel didn't have to put his hands on the man to know he was desperate and that he was armed and dangerous. He had felt that part of him when he was the man for those brief moments. He had a thirty caliber hand gun with a silencer. Probably a cheap mobster from the old Mafia days, looking for another day of glory. Or...a drug runner, maybe? He hadn't caught that, but anything was possible. He didn't always get a complete reading on the person who he touched, or touched him.

One of these days he was going to have to figure out a way to shield himself from random contacts like that, but in this case he suspected it wasn't random at all. Too many times so called random touches had turned out to be a plea from someone on the other side for him to right a wrong or to bring justice to someone in power. He wasn't the strongarm of God, but he was a man willing to do what was right.

Jimbo looked over at him. He hadn't slept a wink. He had kept a hand on his own weapon as well. He had managed to get it past the Homeland Security because he worked for them in his spare time as well as on the ranch. How the other man had gotten past reeked of corruption and Samuel suspected his current job wouldn't end until he found out who was on the take at the airport.

Money was a god to so many on the Earth planet. People would sell out their own parents and brothers and sisters, even sell them. He had to derail that line of thinking as it was negative, and by nature he was a positive person, even though at times that became very hard because of the sometimes cruel people he had to deal with.

Or crazy! He considered.

He remembered contacting Einstein once. The man helped many now on the Other Side, coming to our Earth Planet to consult and help those in need, especially the scientists, for that was his forte. He had saved many a scientist from giving up and going over the deep end, when things were going dark for them.

Einstein and Marilyn usually came together to visit him, sometimes at the same time, sometimes separately, but always together. Something about their friendship was both unique and refreshing to him. 

Al had sat on Samuel's patio railing and looked at him with those big luminous eyes when Samuel began complaining about all the evil on the planet. Saddam Hussein. Osama Bin Laden. Presidents who used their power to kill innocents in the name of democracy. Power went to heads, many heads he had learned over the years. 

Al had shaken his head. "Samuel, people are given choices. Sometimes they have to make do with a bad one, when a worse one would've been...well, worse."

Samuel had shrugged angrily. "But how can you ever justify the killing of innocents...babies and children?"

"You don't justify it. You accept it as a course of action that a soul is going to learn from one day or another. You know now that no one ever truly dies. It's only an illusion that many still believe in. 

"Death is a big joke and a lie."

Samuel sighed. "And the worst part is that many in power know that to be true, and they still keep on perpetrating the lie."

"That's because they have to learn their lessons too, Samuel. This world is a great big school. No one is exempt from learning here. No one. Even Jesus had to learn for a time while he was here. No one knows everything. It is impossible. Perfection doesn't exist, only an ever evolving state of it."

Samuel shook those memories away and looked at Jimbo, who moved his legs so Samuel could stand up and get out. Samuel stretched at first, then scooted past Jimbo's knees and into the aisle. Further down, he saw a Hostess giving a pillow to an older man. He nodded to Jimbo, who also got up and followed him down the aisle.

Jimbo flashed his Homeland Security badge and her eyes widened, when at first she thought he was trying to pick up on her. It was the stunning knockout they had both seen earlier.

They went into the business section with the Hostess following, then turned to look at her. She looked at them, fearfully, but alert. "What can I do for you?"

Jimbo looked to Samuel, who smiled to help ease the fear of the Hostess. His smile was genuine and she could feel it. She relaxed. "We have a  little problem."

"Little?"

 

"A man seated behind me is a murderer."

She started to gasp, then caught herself.

That was when they both noticed that the man was getting up from his seat and heading their way.

"Oh crap!" Jimbo said, reaching for his gun.

Samuel stopped him with a look. "Let's just step out of his way and pretend we're waiting for something to drink.

The Hostess nodded and went into her compartment and began shifting ice into two cups she pulled out of another compartment.

The Man slowed down and spoke to her. "Where's the bathrooms, Miss?"

"This is the business section. Regular flight bathrooms are on the opposite end, near the back. Two of them."

"Thanks." He said. He smiled at her coldly, then gave Samuel and Jimbo a close look for a moment and headed back the other way.

"He's made us." Jimbo said urgently.

"I know." Samuel agreed.

The Hostess became frightened again. "If he has a weapon and fires it, the cabin will decompress."

Samuel smiled at her again, but this time her trembling didn't go away. "I won't let that happen."

"What are you, Superman?"

Jimbo smiled at her next. "Oh, if only you knew."

They took their drinks and went casually back towards their seats, watching the bathrooms in back for the man, but he didn't come out.

"I don't like this." Jimbo said, again reaching for his gun.

Samuel caught him again with a touch. "Tell the Captain to very gently start dropping altitude, but fast!"

Jimbo nodded and went back towards the Pilot's cockpit.

Samuel waited a moment, then set his drink down on a tray already open. An older woman whose eyes were closed, opened her eyes. She eyed the soda, bubbling in front of her. "I don't like caffeinated drinks."

"It's not caffeinated." He told her.

She smiled and took it.

Samuel took his time, but headed for the bathrooms. He felt the jet's angle slowly decline. Just the right amount. Some of the other passengers noted it too, but said nothing and shut their eyes again.

The cabin was dimly lit because most people had their overhead lights off. A few here and there were lit up for newspapers. A few were using tablets to read a book or search news. Samuel nodded to them as he passed, noting that there were quite a few families on this flight. Damn! He thought to himself. Why did it always have to be such huge odds

He was nearing the back when he felt a slight warmth coming to his right. He looked over and Al was seated in an empty chair. M was standing next to him, smiling brightly. She was humming a show tune. "Blondes Make Good Friends."

"He's not coming out." Al said brightly.

"I know." Samuel said.

"What are you going to do about it?" Al asked.

"Scream for help."

Al laughed. M chuckled.

"Really?"

"What do you suggest?"

"Wait. You've already done the right thing."

"I don't like waiting. Things happen. Bad things." Samuel complained.

Al sighed. "Sometimes good things happen too."

Then the sound of a gunshot, the same time as the bathroom door flung open. The air inside the cabin began sucking towards the opened bathroom. People screamed as their loose papers and cups flew into the air.

Samuel hung onto the chair next to him. The surge of pulling air was not as strong as it could have been. The Pilot had done enough.

Samuel dragged himself carefully towards the back, wary of the open bathroom door. Why had the man shot a hole in the bathroom wall, if he intended to survive. It didn't make any sense.

Samuel reached just before the door and the Man came out, covering Samuel with his gun. The silencer touched Samuel's chest. "I used to fly when I was in the Air Force. Special Ops. I know when a plane's dropping revs and alts."

"What do you want from me? Samuel asked.

"Well, for starters...you can die."

The man pulled the trigger of his gun.

WHAM!

The Shasta Caper, Chapter Seven completed

Chapter Seven Continued

He closed his eyes. They had a good length of flight ahead of them. Normally, they could take a non-stop and get there in about three hours, but this flight was going to be stopping at least twice and they had to transfer once as well. So eight hours. He groaned inwardly, but such is the vagaries of life, when you try to help others you can't put boundaries on the time it takes.

A tall man climbed into the chair behind him and arranged himself. His knees pressed into the back of Samuel's chair and he groaned inwardly again. He wouldn't be able to lean back in the chair because of the man, and so he would have to sleep sitting up straight. They should have gone business class, but then again, those had been sold out.

He started to shut his eyes and the man behind him groaned and reached a hand onto his chair to adjust himself. Samuel thought nothing of it. Movement and disturbance were par for a flight in the air.

He no sooner shut his eyes than a blinding white light shone in his face the same time as he felt a hand clasp his right arm from between the chairs.

He opened his eyes. 

WHAM!

His vision was blurred by a mist of red and anger. He had never felt so much anger in his life. So much that the man who was standing opposite him in the bar was not much more than a blur.

"Look, Carl, I can come up with the money. I just need a little more time."

"I've given you all the time I promised already." He told Carl, a small mousey man with a potbelly and a bald head. A nondescript man with no future. Nothing more than a loser and would never be anything but a loser.

"I swear to you. This time it will be different."

They stood in an alley, outside the Monte Carlo Casino. It was inset somewhat. Cars parked up and down it. Traffic nonstop on the strip, lots of noise and distractions. They were just two drunks hollering as far as the crowd surging past knew, and were ignored as such.

He grabbed Carl by his left arm and squeezed hard. "I have to be paid now!"

"I don't have the money. I've already told you!"

He felt so much anger that he exploded. He struck Carl in the face. Carl fell back between two parked cars and slammed to the pavement. He hit his head hard against a curb and lay there.

He moved between the cars. "Come on, Carl, get up. I didn't hit you that hard!"

He kicked Carl in the side. Carl didn't move. "Get up you stupid little fat!"

Carl lay there and then he saw the pool of blood building near Carl's temple where he had struck the curb.

"Oh crap!" He said.

He began backing up. He struck something.

"Sir. You have a problem?"

Carl turned around it. It was one of the biggest Policemen he had ever seen. He was smiling. He didn't know about the body yet. Carl  tried to stop sweating. He was sweating profusely, but then it was that time of year when sweating was easy, especially when you were as overweight as he was. He was tall and appeared somewhat thin, but he was a hundred pounds overweight.

"Nah. Just got lost for a moment. Drinking."

"Ah. Happens." The Officer replied. "Like me to call you a Taxi?"

"I'd appreciate it."

The Officer took out his cell and called a Taxi. A few minutes later, after some nervous chit chat a Taxi came up and a passenger door flipped open.

He looked at the door, then the Officer. He reached out a hand to shake his hand, then he noticed the blood on the knuckles and the tears there. He rapidly withdrew the hand, but not before the Officer saw it. The Officer's face hardened for a moment.

He saw the threat and said quickly. "I hit a wall accidentally."

"Right. A wall. Have a safe night, sir." The Officer said as he climbed rapidly into the Taxi and told it to go straight to the airport.

He looked back and the Officer was still staring at the cab, then he looked at the alley. He started into the alley.

"Oh crap!"

WHAM!

Chapter Seven of The Shasta Caper is now posted.

Chapter Seven

Well, things didn't actually happen quite so fast as either of them expected. Jimbo got an unexpected call in the middle of that night from his brother Jacob, who claimed that someone had broken into the ranch and raided all the horses. When asked what happened next, Jacob had said, "I shot the bastard!"

Jimbo looked over at Samuel, who had fallen asleep on his sofa. Samuel rubbed his eyes. He had heard everything, but wasn't clear enough yet to make sense of it. "Is he in trouble?"

"In jail." Jimbo answered.

"Oh."Samuel answered.

"I have to fly there immediately to get him out."

"What about the rest of your family?"

"In jail."

"Why?"

Jimbo blushed a deep red. "They all shot the bastard."

Samuel laughed, then he realized what that meant and grew sober. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh, but it's so damned absurd and utterly ridiculous..."

"I know." Jimbo said. "I should have known better than to leave my machine guns unlocked."

"They shot the raider with machine guns?"

Jimbo sighed. "Emotions can do strange things. My family comes from a long line of horse breeders and there's always been someone trying to take away what they rightly brought up. Guess the tradition wasn't lost on this generation either."

"How so?"

"Every generation has been in jail for shooting rustlers."

"It isn't against the law to shoot someone for breaking into your property." Samuel insisted.

"No. But is against the law to shoot their horses too."

Samuel groaned. "They machine gunned the Raider's horse too?"

"Yup."

Samuel laughed again. "You Texans!"

"Hey! I'm not the one who did it, besides if I had no one would have found out about it."

Samuel considered that sobering thought.

Jimbo waved his hands. "Whoa, pardner, I have never done that though. Not in this life."

"Okay!" Samuel said, sitting up and putting his feet into his shoes. He stretched, then climbed to his feet. "I'm going with you then."

"No way."

"Way...pardner!" Samuel insisted. "Someone's gotta protect all those airline hostesses from the love mangler."

Jimbo laughed at the stupid words. "Lover mangler." Then he stopped. "You don't really think I mangle the women I love, do you?"

"Jimbo, how many of those heinies did you do?"

Jimbo gestured to the kitchenette where four empty six packs were on their sides with empty bottles all about them.

"Case closed."

They almost ran out the door. The earliest flight left in thirty minutes. They were only twenty minutes away, but if they weren't fast, they wouldn't be able to run up the double flight of stairs in time to catch their flight, which Jimbo reserved by phone in the Taxi they took.

They both tipped the Driver, who gave them surprised looks, then ran for the escalators as they dashed into the terminal. They hit the stairs running and didn't stop, even with others ahead of them, somehow managing to get around them without tumbling them down or hurting anyone.

They finally had to slow down on the main floor, because Home Security Guards were everywhere. There had been a recent scare from some kind of political terrorist in the Middle East. There were always one or another going on. Had never stopped. Samuel knew why, but he didn't talk about it. No one really wanted to know, so he kept it to himself.

They reached the Southwest Lines ticket taker at the door as the last passenger was boarding. She was a knockout. Even Samuel, who was usually quite sedate when it came to lookers, had to admit she was stunning.

Jimbo, of course, immediately tried to get her phone number. She stonewalled him and he shrugged it off to win one lose one and stomped after Samuel, trying to hide his frustration with failing in front of his best friend.

They were greeted by an even more stunning hostess at the jet cabin door and Jimbo lit up like a Christmas Tree. "Christmas really does come twice a year in Vegas." He said to the Hostess, who had no idea what he was talking about as she took his ticket and motioned towards the back.

Samuel nodded to her, then looked back. Something about those eyes. What was it. He shook it off and carried on after Jimbo, who helped an old lady stack her baggage in the rack overhead and beneath her chair, before sliding into his own seat on the opposite side of the asile. Samuel slid past him next to the window. They were right over the wing section.

The old lady looked over at Jimbo and smiled. "You going to Texas, young man?"

"I am." He answered politely.

She gave him a card which she hastily scribbled a number on and offered to him. Politely, he took it and grinned at her. She winked, then slid a pair of blinders over her eyes and ear muffs over her ears and went to sleep.

Samuel elbowed Jimbo. "Christmas happens three times in Vegas."

"I hate you." Jimbo replied.

The flight was a bumpy one on take off. It always is over the Nevada range of mountains. The air currents play hell with the jets, shaking them like a milkshake for a good five minutes before settling down.

It didn't bother Jimbo any, but it always brought back memories to Samuel, because he had been involved in a plane crash once in Arizona near Sedona. It had been a special flight. A tourist flight and not a passenger jet like this one, but flying is flying and it took him a couple of years to get over his fears of flying after that. Even to this day he got a bit anxious if the plane suddenly jerked or veered, but when he shut his eyes he could always see the smiling face of a beautiful woman glowing with white light about her telling him "Everything is going to be fine, Sammie."

It was his mother. He was the only one who saw her. She was his Whisperer. Everyone had one or more. They were people who had gone on into the Light and had chosen to help from the other side by being Jiminy Crickets to the humans still caught up in nonsense of Earth living.