In January, I entered a short story contest from NYC Midnight. They provide you with story parameters, and eight days to write. Below is my submission. I did not win or move on to the next round, so am posting the story here. While winning a contest would be great, I actually like the writing challenges the various contests provide. Some will even offer feedback, which is a prize in and of itself.
In my case, I know I missed the mark of the parameters. But I did enjoy the crafting of the story.
At any rate, I have a fun little story to post. I hope you enjoy it.
I will include the story parameters and synopsis at the beginning.
Parameters
Genre: Political Satire
Subject: An escape
Character: A subscriber
What’s Next
Larry King has passed on. How does an eternally quizzical soul, navigate the afterlife?
Larry hovered next to the hospital bed, where ventilator encased face and still body lay. He watched himself for a moment and thought, “Wow, so this is how it ends. At least, I escaped 2020!” It was fascinating to watch all the activity around his body. He hung around for a few more minutes and then decided it was time to go.
Just like that, he found himself standing in the middle of a beautifully, manicured garden. A slight breeze reminded him, that he still wore a hospital gown. He started, when he realized his body was no longer old, but young again! No pain either!
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, startling him out of his wonder. He spun around to stare into the grinning face of a young Marlon Brando.
Marlon smirked, “Careful Lar, I might lay another one on you!”
Larry asked, “Wow, Marlon, is that you?”
Marlon stretched his arms wide, and looked around, “It is me, Larry.”
“Where are we?” Asked Larry, “I mean, I really never thought about what happens after death, is this heaven?”
“I don’t know where this is Larry. This is your imagination, not mine.” He held up a hand, “I know you love to ask questions, but I ain’t the one with the answers. Come on, I’ll take you to the place that does have answers.”
“Wait!” Said Larry, “Where can I get some pants? This gown is a bit drafty!”
Marlon snorted his laughter, “I was wondering when you would ask! I was beginning to think you enjoyed that drafty get up.”
“Hardly,” said Larry dryly.
Marlon chuckled, “It’s all in your mind, Lar. Just think about what you want to wear, and you’re wearing it.”
Larry grinned as his signature suspenders appeared.
“Perhaps some pants for the suspenders to grip?” Suggested Marlon.
Larry looked down and blushed, he quickly thought of his favorite trousers.
“Better?” Asked Marlon.
Larry nodded.
“This way then,” said Marlon as he started walking.
They wound their way through the garden. Larry wondered how Marlon knew the way. He also wondered who he was waving at and talking to as they went. Larry saw no one. He was about to ask when they arrived at the foot of a wide marble staircase. The building, the steps lead up to, reminded Larry of the courthouse he had been taken to after he had been arrested.
“Interesting look you have going there, Lar. What’s the number for?” Asked Marlon.
Larry blushed. He had been thinking about the mugshot, and now looked the picture, so to speak. Quickly the number was replaced by the suspenders.
Marlon held out his hand, “Here we are. In there you’ll get your answers.”
“But…,” said Larry as he took Marlon’s hand.
“It was great to see you Lar, I’ll see you around.” Grinned Marlon mischievously, then he pulled Larry to him and planted a kiss on his lips, “For old times sake!” He chuckled, and disappeared.
Stunned, Larry’s hands flew to his face.
As he dropped his hands, he saw that the garden was gone. He stood on a beach, the sun obscured by roiling offshore storm clouds. The ocean was dark and menacing. He shivered and turned back to the stairs, which were now weather beaten wood, leading up to an equally weathered bungalow.
“This place evokes more questions, than answers,” mused Larry as he climbed the steps. He stood before the battered door and tried to look in through the rusted screen. He shrugged, and knocked on the door frame.
“Hello!” He called, “Anyone there?”
Faint at first, he heard the clacking of high heels as they struck a tile floor. Before he could wonder at the sound, he jumped back as the rickety door banged open.
Just as alarming was the austere woman, who stood before him. Cold eyes glittered, through menacing cat-eye glasses. Hair pulled back in a slick tight bun, gave her cheek bones a skull like appearance. Her thin red lips pursed in disapproval as she scolded, “You’re late!” In a raspy dry voice.
The question, “Are you death?” Wilted in his throat. Instead he gasped, “I am?”
Without changing expression, the woman glanced at the clipboard she had tucked in the crook of her arm, “You were supposed to arrive in 2020.” Another lethal glance at him, “How dare you skip your time slot!”
Any hope for forgiveness died in Larry’s thoughts. Completely, confused and now certainly damned, all Larry did was look up at her, like a bug fast approaching a windshield.
With a reproachful glare, she commanded, “Follow me. Keep up, and don’t touch anything!” The last bit was snarled. The woman then turned, her clicking heels lead the way down an institutional corridor.
As he scurried to keep up, he wondered briefly if he had really died, or perhaps he had simply lost his mind.
“Put that out!” Commanded the woman.
Shocked, Larry looked at the lit cigarette in his hand. How had he done this? It had been years since he smoked. He brought his hand up to examine the lit stick in his hand. He considered a quick drag, but was quickly thwarted when a deluge of water soaked him and the cigarette. He gasped in shock.
“Keep up Mr. King,” came the raspy voice over the clicking heels. Larry dropped the now soggy cigarette and hurried to catch the woman as she disappeared around a corner.
After many more turns through identical corridors, the woman stopped at what seemed a dead end. She poked at a glowing spot on the wall with a long boney finger. The wall dissipated.
Larry stared in awe. Before them was a cavernous great room, which had to be miles long and wide, by his estimation. He and the woman had entered the room from an elevated balcony. He peered over the edge and realized it was miles deep and high. People milled about everywhere. At regular intervals, on every balcony were openings. Each opening had a glowing panel above it, which pulsed violently until someone entered the opening. In the middle of the cavernous room were floating disks with people, seated on chairs, couches, stools, or walking about, in groups or alone. Walkways would briefly attach to the disks from the balconies to allow people on or off. Larry was mesmerized until the woman rasped at him.
“Take your summons. When it’s your turn, it will light up with the door you should enter. Don’t lose it!” She cautioned sternly. She stepped aside and indicated the summons dispenser.
A glowing device hovered next to Larry. As he held out his hand it deposited a small glass ball on to his palm. He held it up and looked at it. It looked just like a marble.
“What happens if I lose it?” Asked Larry, but the woman was gone. He looked around, but she was nowhere in sight.
Larry shrugged, but kept the little ball tight in his fist. He would have placed it in his pocket, but didn’t trust himself to keep his pants on, just yet.
With nothing else to do, he decided to explore his surroundings. Again, he looked over the balcony, and tried to see if he could see the bottom. He felt like he was in a funhouse, staring into an infinity mirror. Looking up produced the same result. He started to walk along the balcony, intending to explore one of the openings, but as he walked, the nearest one seemed to always remain the same distance away. At some point he felt like he was in a giant hamster wheel.
He wondered how he could attract one of the bridges so he could get on a floating disk, when the balcony next to him dissolved and a bridge appeared. Once he set foot on the disk the bridge disappeared. At first, he remained away from the edge, afraid to fall. But when someone jostled him near the precipice, he realized the edge moved. He attempted to fall off several more time, but decided it worked like the balconies, when you tried to walk to the openings.
Next, looked around at the people. No one was remotely familiar. He wondered how long he would need to wait for his turn. What would he encounter when turn arrived. So many questions!
“Well,” he muttered to himself, “I never prepared for an interview before, why start now?” He decided to talk to the nearest person, when a voice boomed behind him,
“Larry King!”
Larry spun around, and saw Hank Aaron, striding toward him!
“Hank!” He shouted back, “What are you doing here?” They shook hands. “You, look much younger than the last time I saw you,” he noted.
Hank shook his head. “Man, I don’t know, Larry. Last thing I remember, I climbed into bed last night, and woke up in the Braves dugout! Weirder yet, Dr. King was sitting on the bench with Jackie Robinson and Don Newcombe. They were all looking at me, smiling, shaking my hand and congratulating me.” He shook his head again as if to shake off a deep sleep, “This has got to be a dream.”
Larry sighed. “Sorry Hank, it’s not a dream. We’re dead.”
“Nope.” Said Hank, “When I went to bed you, were still alive.”
“Oh, I’m definitely dead. I saw it happen in my hospital room. Damn Covid got me.” Said Larry.
“But, I can’t be dead.” Disagreed Hank. “I have too many things left to do. You don’t know how to get out of this place, do you?” Asked Hank hopefully.
Larry shook his head. “Hey Hank, did you get a little glass ball from the freaky death woman?”
“Death woman?” Asked Hank. “You mean this?” He held up a violently, vibrating, purple glass ball. “The umpire gave this to me and told me not to lose it.” He said.
“Huh,” said Larry, “I think it means, it’s your turn.”
“I know what it means,” snorted Hank, “But, I am not ready to go. I need to get back!”
“So drop it.” Suggested Larry, “Let’s see what happens.”
“Drop yours first!” Challenged Hank.
Larry held up his clear glass marble. He was afraid. He shook his head and said, “I want to see what’s next. I have questions.”
Hank huffed. “I just want out of here.”
A diminutive woman, wearing a blue and white Sari, joined them. She looked very old, which made her stand out from everyone else, around them. Charismatic peace, serenity and love emanated from the women. Larry and Hank stared at her in awe. They knew exactly who she was. Mother Teresa. She looked up at both of them, smiling and said, “I’ve dropped my little glass ball many times. I feel I have much work to do here, before I can continue.”
“What is this place?” Asked Larry.
“I suppose it depends on the religion you subscribe to.” She said, “I call it Purgatory.”
Hank asked excitedly, “Do you know how I can get back?”
“I have a theory, but not any solid actual knowledge.” She said.
“I’m all ears,” said Hank eagerly.
“Well,” she began, “When you drop, or lose, the marble it shatters like a Rupert’s teardrop. Most people panic and run for a dispenser, but if you wait long enough, a dispenser will find you. You simply take another glass and your turn wait starts over.” She shrugged, “I drop mine regularly. I have too much work to do. Do you know how many people show up here and bring all their earthly angst with them?”
“Mother Teresa, Ma’am,” said Hank, “What happens if you don’t take another one?”
“Ahh,” she grinned, “That’s when it gets really interesting.”
Hank and Larry leaned in eagerly, “Eventually, the dispenser stops following the person around and three doors surround them. At that point, they have no choice, but to pick a door and walk through. No one knows where the doors lead, but I have spoken with a few souls who say the doors lead to reincarnation.” She smiled and shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. The only sure way to find out, ignore the dispenser, and choose a door.” She looked at Larry, “Look over there,” she pointed to a grand archway, that neither Hank nor Larry had noticed before, “A lot of important souls come through that arch. I bet if you wait there, you can ask a lot of burning questions.”
Hank wanted to learn more, but she smiled again and moved on.
Larry and Hank stood quietly, lost in their own thoughts.
Finally, Larry said, “Well Hank, what’s it going to be?”
Hank gave Larry a piercing look, “I love baseball, but there has to be more than swinging a bat, that I can do for my people. I have to go back.”
Larry nodded, “You know Hank, I’ve been a longtime subscriber of asking questions. As much as I enjoyed life, I see an opportunity here.”
With a mischievous grin Larry held his marble high above his head.
Hank laughed and did the same.
“On three,” said Larry.
“One-two-three!” Cried Hank gleefully.
They dropped their marbles, which exploded on impact.
When the debris cleared, two dispensers had floated to them. Larry retrieved a marble.
Hank ignored the dispenser. “So now what?”
“Well,” said Larry, I’d like to find a way over to that arch.”
“Mind if I tag along?” Asked Hank.
“Please do,” grinned Larry, “I want to watch you choose a door!”
April 13, 2041. ESPN Play of the Day.
“Mike, have you ever seen anything like that?” Gushed broadcaster Dan Pouras.
Mike shook his head, grinning, “I have not, how about you Georgia?”
Georgia Force smiled, “Why, yes I have. If you boys had done your homework you would know that this women, Jackie Dawn Aaron, is none other than the great granddaughter of the late Hank Aaron. She was born on February 5, 2022. Look at her swing! She has the same swing as her grandaddy!”
“That she does!” Exclaimed the chagrined Mike.
“How have we not heard of her before?” Asked Dan.
Georgia sighed. “Boys, we clearly, still have a long way to go. I’ve been following Jackie since she came on the scene in High School. Get with the times, women are escaping gender stereotypes in waves!”
