Post on 13-Apr-2015
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MYSTERY ILLUSION THEATRE #1
THE CHIMES OF BAODING
byTYLER WEAVER
Cover byBLAIR J. CAMPBELL
Copyright ©2013 TYLER WEAVER – All Rights Reserved.
THE CHIMES OF BAODING
THE SPHERULETTE OF MISTER TOM
––This is, in fact, the first time you have ever
encountered me in all of your existence, in every
plane and dimension throughout the known and
unknown universe?
The man nods.
–– Was that a nod in the affirmative or the
negative, mister…
–– Tom. Tom J––
–– Mister Tom, was that a nod in the affirmative
or the negative?
Delia aims her probing gaze at Mister Tom. Her
gloved hands rest on either elbow. Smartphones
and camera lights pinprick the night around her
overturned cardboard box; barflies and college
kids celebrating finals, deal-closers and door-
closers peer around the corner to witness her
display of prestidigitation. Mister Tom strokes
his patchy two-day stubble.
–– I have never encountered you before in all of
my existence.
–– In every plane and dimension?
–– Yes ma’am.
–– You have?
–– No ma’am.
–– And the unknown? Don’t forget the unknown,
Mister Tom.
–– And the unknown, yes ma’am.
–– And you can ensure me that we are not
cohorts, co-conspirators or collaborators in any
means, ways, or deviations devised under God?
The man nods. She bows.
–– Very well then.
She tugs three sheets of aluminum foil from the
box next to her.
–– Now Mister Tom, since we have never met
before in the known universe––that is correct,
yes?
–– Right. Correct.
–– Will you please make for me three spherules
of equal size with the sheets I have provided
you?
She looks to the growing crowd and tries to hide
her face from the tiny all-seeing eyes of
perpetual connectivity. Mister Tom rolls the
sheets into the desired shape.
–– You will see that this gentleman, this fine
specimen of Mister Tom here, is producing––
most tenderly might I add––three spherules of
equal size and shape. Again, I ask the gentleman,
we are not co-conspirators or cohorts or lovers
or friends?
He laughs and shakes his head. He extends his
hand. She cracks a small smile and turns her
hands inward, the middle joints of each over the
other, clasping the invisible egg.
–– Mister Tom, to ensure the sanctity of these
handcrafted specimens, I must insist that you
position them on the table in front of me.
The aluminum balls chatter on the box top. From
behind the box, she produces three frayed Dixie
cups.
–– Thank you sir.
She takes one of the balls between her fingers
and deposits it on top of the middle cup. She
pushes the other balls aside. She places the other
cups on top.
–– Mister Tom, since we are neither conspirators
nor lovers, will you please provide this cup, this
lonely top cup, with a lover’s tap?
He obliges. She lifts the cups and reveals the ball
underneath; virtual camera clicks the crickets in
the night.
–– You have a tender touch, kind sir. But, this
spherule needs a friend, a spherulette. It’s lonely,
trapped underneath and alone in the dark like
that, even if you are birthed from the death of
one form into another.
She traps the first ball under the cup. She places
another ball on top and covers it.
–– But you have to suffer sometimes to get what
you want, isn’t that correct, Mister Tom? You
have to feel the breath taken out of you, you have
to feel the…
She slams her gloved hand onto the top cup: two
balls under the bottom.
–– …pain to arrive at any destination worth
arriving.
The crowd applauds. Mister Tom steps back. The
neon light from around the corner bathes them
in green and red. Click click shutter shutter
tweet.
The third ball on top.
–– But sometimes, two isn’t enough. Sometimes
you want more, a light experimentation with
friends. To touch them in ways you haven’t
before, to feel more than two hands on you, isn’t
that correct?
Mister Tom blushes.
–– Come now, a man with your tender touch
must be very popular. Very…
She smashes her hand on the top cup.
–– … popular.
Only two balls under the bottom cup. The crowd
snickers. They put away their smartphones.
Show’s over. Mister Tom’s blush subsides.
Delia rubs her temple.
–– Now, now, this is only a temporary thing.
Sometimes things don’t go the way you want. Sir,
I ask you again. We’ve never met before, is this
correct? I must implore you for honesty in this
regard, Mister Tom, please.
–– Yes ma’am. Never met before.
–– Then why is my spherulette behind your ear?
Why did you deny these two lovers the rapture
of a third?
Mister Tom reaches behind his head. The
aluminum ball rests in his palm. The crowd
gasps. He reaches towards her with the ball
between his fingers. She cups her hands and
nods towards the table. He reaches closer. She
recoils. He sets the ball on the table.
–– Lovers reunited. Thank you Mister Tom.
SUGARPRINTS WIPEDOWN
–– Thank you Mister Tom sir indeed.
Odette munches on Cinnamon Toast Crunch and
taps Mister Tom’s Amex Black against the wallet.
–– Wipe it and leave it. Cash only.
Delia rifles through the cash: three hundred and
seven dollars.
–– Can I pick ‘em or can I pick ‘em?
–– You’re learning.
–– Does that mean you’re proud of me?
–– You’re a great tool.
–– Am I the greatest tool in the known and
unknown universe?
–– Don’t push it.
–– Pfft. You’d be lost without me.
Delia shakes off Odette’s sugary fingerprints and
pulls a sanitizer wipe from her pocket.
–– C’mon. Just admit it. You’d be lost without me.
She wipes down the wallet, from the pictures of
Mister Tom and his family to the folded Buddha
quote on a scrap of index card (be a light unto
yourself) to a hotel key card (The Charles,
discreet and efficient) to the outside and drops it
in the trash can. She wipes her gloved hands
together. Cinnamon sugar crystals trickle onto
the trashcan lid.
–– I would?
–– Pffbt.
Odette’s cinnamon-encrusted tongue is the last
thing Delia sees before she hears the screech and
everything goes black.
To read the complete story, you can either purchase Mystery Illusion Theatre #1 – The Chimes of Baoding for $1.99 on Amazon at
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00C0TIR5O
…or you can sign up for The Spinner Rack newsletter and get it for free (PDF only).
http://tyler-weaver.com/newsletter/
For more, including a blog, further works and to
sign up for The Spinner Rack newsletter, please
visit tyler-weaver.com
ALSO BY TYLER WEAVER
WHIZ!BAM!POW!
Whiz!Bam!Pow! Prologue – A Linen Forcefield
Whiz!Bam!Pow! Book One – Ollie
Whiz!Bam!Pow! Book Two – Frank
The Adventures of the Sentinel (Radio Show)
STORIES
A Perfect Family (A Short Story)
I Can See (A Short Story)
NON-FICTION
Comics for Film, Games, and Animation: Using Comics to Construct Your Transmedia Storyworld
(Focal Press)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
TYLER WEAVER is a writer of stories in (and across) books, comics, radio, and film. He lives in the wilds of Ohio as the hand that feeds two greyhounds, a mini schnauzer and an anything-but-standard poodle. He also once saw an ocelot.
You can find him on Twitter under the creative handle of @tylerweaver.