His Lordship

My photo
I’m Jason L. Secrest, an aspiring author and impoverished college student. Sometimes I blog. When I’m being real about real world things that other people also believe are real I post at wiseyetharmless.bogspot.com. Then there are the moments that I’m also being real, but in regards to a different real world where there is a real annoying talking demon in my basement and where my non-fake butler/valet/gentleman’s-gentleman knows Jujutsu. In those moment’s I’m Jason L. Secrest, Lord of the Manor, and I blog directly to you from my mansion study at whathowadsworth.blogspot.com.
Showing posts with label Beezle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Beezle. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

A Disturbing Dream


Again, I'm interrupting my adventures in hell to bring you other news:

I had a horrible terrible nightmare last night. It was so visceral. So real.

I was 12 again, and I was outside in a dark wood. A man much resembling Wadsworth approached from the forest. When he looked at me I felt small, insignificant, and frightened. He walked closer leaning slightly on a black and silver cane. I tried to shrink back from him, but found that I could not move. When he was close the man bowed stiffly and locked his gaze on me. I could see disdain burning in his eyes.

“I am Walters,” he said. His voice was firm, cryptic, and aloof. “I have been sent to fetch you.”

Lightning flashed and the wood was gone. Before us there was an enormous building that I immediately recognized as the mansion house, but it was old, crumbling, and decayed. The lawns had gone to seed and the hedges were full of long sharp thorns. Here I’d like to mention I have a favorite hedge sculpture at the mansion.  In reality, it is trimmed to resemble Abraham Lincoln patting a large squirrel on the head. In the dream it was Hitler throttling a rabbit.

In my dream Walters walked up the path to the house, waggling his fingers at me. I didn’t want to go, but behind me I heard howling and a scream. Swallowing I followed Walters. At the door I looked inside without entering. The interior was decorated in deep black colors complimented by red velvet trimmings. Most of the furniture was covered with black sheets and cobwebs ran rampant.

As I timidly crossed the threshold the ancient doors (which were iron rather than oak) swung shut with a bang, clipping my heals. I heard the deadbolts lock of their own accord. I tried the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Walters turned and lifted an eyebrow. There was a hint of amusement on his face.  Then he turned, waggling his fingers at me again. I followed him past the cold unlit fireplace of the grand foyer and up the great stairs to the door of Uncle Nick's study. It was black and foreboding. Walters stepped back and gestured at the door. I turned the knob and peered inside. One glance was enough to make me shriek and jump back in fear. A blody altar of bones sat atop a scrawled chalk pentagram.

Walters calmly pushed me inside and slammed the door behind me. I pounded against the door, yelling in fright as Walters dryly intoned, "We do hope you enjoy your stay, sir. Please call should you need anything."

I heard deep resounding laughter behind me and spun around to see a skull hovering over the alter its eyes were aflame.

I woke up then, cold and sweating. I leapt from my bed clambered up on my dresser and yelled into the vent, "Beezle! What the heck are you doing?"

"FUS ROH DAH," said the vent and I was blasted backward, thankfully landing on the bed. "Beezle," I hollered not missing a beat, "Stay out of my dreams!"

"I USED TO INFLUENCE DREAMS LIKE YOURS," said the vent, "BUT THEN I TOOK AN ARROW IN THE KNEE."

"Beezle! I'm serious! Stay out of my head!"

"AND I'M BEING SERIOUS. I WISH WITH ALL MY BLACK HEART THAT I COULD HAVE  EXPERIENCED WHATEVER TORTUOUS FANTASIES YOU ENJOYED LAST NIGHT - THOUGH I DOUBT THAT MY ENJOYMENT OF YOUR AGONY WOULD COMPARE MUCH WITH THE THRILL OF OFFING THE KEEPER OF AN ORPHANAGE. WHICH I AM ABOUT TO JOYOUSLY DO, THANK YOU VERY MUCH."

Truth be told, Skyrim is the best game that ever happened to me. Not just because it's a great game, but because it keeps Beezle occupied. He can't spend more than a few hours away from it at a time, and the occasional dovahkiin shout through the vents is more than worth the peace I get throughout the rest of the day.  I hope some DLC comes out soon, so that I can release it to Beezle in manageable trickles.

I was disturbed by Beezle's reaction though. It’s not like him to NOT claim something like this. He’d have been proud of it, would have drawn out his victory by taunting me. I supposed that it was possible to have a bad dream without Beezle’s help, but it didn't seem likely. There was a knock at my door, interrupting my thoughts. "Lord Secrest?" came Wadsworth's soothing voice, "Are you alright?"

I blushed. I hadn't meant to wake Wadsworth. He does enough already without being shouted awake in the middle of the night. "I just had a bad dream, that's all," I called through the door.

"Ah. Perhaps a cup of something warm would help settle the nerves? Shall I fetch you something?"

"No thanks. I'm okay. You can go back to bed."

"Very good, sir. Please, don’t hesitate to wake me should you change your mind."

I lay back down and tried to think pleasant calming thoughts. I was almost asleep when the vent bellowed, "WHAT? SHE'S EVIL? HOW CAN I IN GOOD CONSCIOUS KILL THE ABUSIVE CARETAKER OF AN ORPHANAGE? IS THIS MANDATORY IF I WANT TO JOIN THE DARK BROTHERHOOD? IT CAN’T BE. THAT WOULD BE CRUEL."

I smiled and let myself fall into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

Monday, January 23, 2012

Crimson Surprise (Part 2)

Last time on Crimson Surprise the following happened:

I attended a writing convention and got a little creeped out by Paul Genesse's over interest in Beezle, so I skipped out on the rest of the convention, went home, and locked my door. 

A few days after the convention I came home to find the house unnaturally quiet. Suspecting that Beezle was up to something I dashed off to his lair finding his door open. This left me disquieted because that door is the one thing keeping him contained. Inside the lair I picked up a letter left on a pedestal and in doing so triggered some sort of spell that slammed the door behind me:

"Dear Lord Secrest,
 Until recently there has been an evil entity occupying this space. Whether you considered it a blessing, curse, or tenant, it will not bother you again. To ensure both your safety and cooperation this room has been sealed for the next twenty-four hours. Have an enjoyable weekend. As always, feel free to submit stories about any demons you encounter for inclusion in 'The Crimson Pact.'
 -The Spirit Traveler"
At this point I left to have a good cry. Since then, I've left you out to dry as Griseus so sternly reminded me. Let's jump right in, shall we?

...

Looking around my prison, the prison which had once held Beezle, I felt an enormous weight of despair. "Beezle? Gone?" I thought. Then I chided myself angrily, "Beezle has been a pain in my neck since the first summer I spent in this house, way back when it belonged to Uncle Nicholas. Not only that, but he's a demon for crying out loud. He's never stopped trying to get at my soul. It's what he does."

Still, Beezle has been a significant part of my life for over a decade, howbeit obnoxious and dangerous.  Maybe it was his devilish charm or his evil sense of humor, but I found myself feeling hollow and empty at his loss. "Just a trick," I thought, "Just a ruse. He's been working on me all these years, trying to make me like him more and more to make me a loyal friend, ready to fall into some deadly trap that would cost me my soul to escape." Honestly, I still believe that what I thought here was fully accurate, but it was no use. I felt like a family member had just been kidnapped, and the culprit hadn't even left me the option of putting up a ransom.

Angrily I threw the letter across the room and began to pace it. I didn't try to look for a way out. There wasn't one. That was the idea. You keep demons in it so that they can't get out. There was the vent in the ceiling of course, but it acts as a pressure valve - lets Beezle reach into the world and interact with it but prevents him from building up enough energy to blast his way out of the wards. The vent wasn't any kind of use to me though. It was several stories above me. I couldn't even see it in the vaulted darkness.

Finally I dashed at the letter and attempted a good kick. It got caught on my shoe and lifted a few feet into the air and settled back down next to a thin trail of demon blood. Grimly I followed it with my eyes to the wall where a larger stain smeared the smooth onyx stone etched with golden runes. I squinted and knelt down next to the smear. A small black circle containing one rune was completely blood free, and it was close to the center of the splatter.

I brushed my finger thoughtfully over the rune and it lit up. I stepped back as I felt intense heat radiate from it and it glowed red. The fiery glow spread to surrounding runes, and from them to others. Soon a full third of the wall was burning like a furnace, forcing me to the the other side. I thought that at any moment I'd be roasted like a pig. The shining onyx stone before me melted away revealing Beezle's fireplace.

The Beezle's fireplace is one of the few things in his room that never seems to change shape or size. It's always the same. Twenty feet tall, surrounded by ironworks and statues depicting torturous burning misery, a blazing inferno - except today there was no blazing inferno. The fireplace was completely empty save one thing: a golden door with a silver handle.

"Of course!" I thought, "I forgot about the fireplace."

I've known for a good long time that Beezle has had a route too and from the demonic realm via his fireplace. It's not anything that's ever concerned me much. What comes in and out of the hell-fires is no business of mine, unless it wanders into the rest of the house. The room and the door see to it that nothing ever does. Now though... now I had to make a decision that I never thought would be difficult: I had to decide whether or not I should leave the safety of my house, and of this world, and enter a the demonic plane.

"Beelze obviously ment me to find this," I thought, "so presumably it's relatively safe for me to go through, or at least close to the door."


"But what if," I added, "What if this is one last kick in the ribs? I never did sell him my soul, so what if he led me to the door out of spite?"


Somehow I doubted that. Not because Beezle isn't spiteful. No, it's because currently Beezle is my demon. That relationship is more important than you might think. It's a matter of pride for Beezle that he gets my soul and no one else. If he sent me as a mortal into the depths of hell and I somehow ended up selling my self to some other demon, Beezle would never live it down. And Beezle wasn't dead. Otherwise I wouldn't have been locked in my room.

If Beezle thought he could get back he wouldn't have led me to the door either. Obviously, he thought that whatever the risks behind it, this golden door was the only way for he and I to be reunited as tempter and temptee.

I walked tentatively toward the door, "Are you really going to do this?" I thought, "Are you really going to risk your life and probably your soul to get Beezle back in your house? Don't you think that maybe you should just sit back for 24 hours, and then throw a 'Beezle is Gone' party after the fact?"

"Well," I countered lamely, "he must think I'm capable, or he wouldn't lead me this way. Beside's he'll owe me one. It might make life better when he's back. Look, I'll just step through and if it looks too risky I'll just say I'm chicken and come right back."


With that final foolhardy thought firmly in mind I gripped the long silver handle. It was curved ever so slightly and felt comfortable in my hand. With measured pace I pushed it down and pressed softly against the ornate door. The moment it cracked open a magical gust of wind caught me from behind and sent me tumbling over the threshold. I tumbled through the air for several feet, landing on my back in the dark on something surprisingly soft and textile.  A ray of light above me revealed the door as I looked up, but the ray became feebler and vanished as the door closed with a subtle click.

----to be continued-------

Sorry, but I just scared my own pants off reliving the horrible realization that I was trapped in the dark in Hell of all places. We'll pick up on this again next week when I'm not quite so short of breath.


(Crimson Pact references used with the written permission of Paul Genesse. Get the anthology or risk your life submitting your own demon related experience at www.thecrimsonpact.com)

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Crimson Surprise


Forgive me, but I'm still not talking about quarters today. I was working on a history of Beezle's obsession... trying to decide what was relevant and/or entertaining and what was not. Unfortunately something more drastic has occurred, and I felt it more relevant. Enjoy this week's installment of "Crimson Surprise!"

------

               The last few days have been trying to say the least. I've been dealing with things that are... less ordinary that what I'm used to. The details of the whole story started a long time ago, long before I was born, and I'm not really too clear about exactly how they go, so I won't attempt to divulge or explain them. My part begins four days ago on Saturday, May 28, 2011.
                Saturday morning I abstracted from the Mansion House to my Provo residence where I met up with a few friends who had invited me to spend the day with them at Conduit. Conduit, for those who don't know, is an annual convention that encourages authors and nerds in general to be as embarrassing as they want to be without feeling quite as self conscious about themselves. I've attended twice now, and after observing a few of the attendees I've concluded that a few of the people are much like me - we experience reality slightly differently than the people who surround us. I'm convinced, for example, that Larry Corriea carries a concealed weapon not because he's a gun nut, and not because he feels the need to protect himself from other people. I suspect rather, that he is acutely aware that creatures of myth and legend are stalking him on a regular basis. It is likely that Monster Hunters International is a spiced up set of memoirs.
                I enjoyed the convention greatly, took a few notes, and did my best to schmooze with the successful people around me. One such person goes by the name of Paul Genesse, though now I wonder if that's just an alias. You see, Genesse has been collecting stories about demons, and he's especially interested in Urban Fantasy (you know, accounts of winged nightmares that terrorize the streets in back-road villages; inner-city libraries that hide do-it-yourself possession booths in the self-help sections - stuff like that.) At first, I found Paul's invitation to submit a story intriguing. I keep a demon in my modern-day basement after all  and I exploit the antics of said demon shamelessly in an attempt to win myself a little fame and fortune without selling my soul. Paul's pitch sounded just exactly like my kind of thing. I said as much to Paul, and immediately regretted it.
                Most of the time, when I tell people about Beezle and The Mansion House, they chuckle with me and we move the conversation along. Paul however had a completely different reaction. He got a sort of darkly eager look in his eyes and started probing me with endless questions. I answered them uneasily and did my best to end the conversation. Paul reluctantly let me go, but he insisted on trading business cards. I pretended to have lost mine, but he pressed his into my hand along with a flyer requesting submissions for his Crimson Pact anthology. I smiled, said I might submit something, and backed my way towards Correia's corner of the room. Genesse's eyes followed me as I went, but I felt a little safer. Larry, as I mentioned earlier, packs heat. It wasn't long before Paul was smiling at another fan, and I slipped out of the signing area. I sent a text to my friends saying that I felt ill, walked around the street corner, and abstracted back to the mansion house where I breathed much more easily. I shrugged the episode off and completely forgot about it by dinner time.
                Monday was memorial day. I went home to Roosevelt to visit the graves of some loved ones and to enjoy the company of my immediate family. When I returned to the estate, I abstracted into the northwest forest. This perturbed me because I'd been aiming for the cluster of trees next to the driveway. The evening was late and cloud-cover hid the moon and stars. No lights were on in the house and the walk was dark and foreboding. I was severely anxious until I remembered that I'd given Wadsworth the day off so that he could honor a few comrades who had fallen in The Wars. (He wouldn't say which ones. He gets cryptic like that.)
              In Wadsworth's absence I grabbed a snack from the fridge and settled down in the study to work on my memoirs. After an hour the silence of the house was grating on my nerves. Beezle hadn't breathed a word. I checked my ventilation shaft. It was neither stuffed nor shut. Generally I see quiet as a blessing, but given that the day was Memorial Day, I wondered if Beezle wasn't preoccupied with some special way of honoring the dead. (The list of rules at the mansion house is growing long. One of the prominent rules reads "Reanimation and other extracurricular activates involving the (un)dead are strictly prohibited." This rule is preceded only by the rules that prohibit things like lighting me on fire.)
                Concerned, I cleared my throat and called into the air duct, "Beezle, how's Memorial Day been for you?" I got no reply. After several seconds I repeated, "Beezle? What are you doing down there?" Nothing. I listened intently. The silence was complete. Usually I can at least pick up the soft roar of Beezle's hellish fireplace. My stomach twisted with anxiety and I had to force myself to walk instead of run to the wine cellar. As I went I made loud remarks like, "Duncan is more than willing to lend me his witch taser," and "Beezle, answer me or so help me I'll cut off your internet access again." By the time I'd made it to the basement door I was jittery and nervous, looking everywhere for anything out of place.
               Nothing was. Everything was unnervingly still and orderly. Even with Wadsworth home there was always something misbehaving. I gave up on walking and dashed the rest of the way to the cellar. I had force myself to slow again and to take the stairs carefully. They're old and rotted. I replaced them once, but they decayed again before the day was out. At the bottom I dashed through the perpetually dusty wine racks. I seized the box of matches by Beezle’s tunnel. My hands were shaking so badly that I snapped three match heads before I managed to light the torch in the scone. Usually when I visit Beezle I burn away the ever present spider webs that lead to his door. This time I just ran with the torch before me and blazed a trail through the webs. In retrospect, this was rasher than it sounds. Some of those webs are occupied by more than one variety of deadly arachnid. The end of the tunnel and the heavy bronze door couldn't come quickly enough. I rounded the final corner to find that the door was already open.
                I cannot think of any situation in which that might be a good thing. Beezle can't open that door. He can barely affect the world beyond that door. If he found a way past it, heaven help this world. More than that, heaven help my Uncle. Uncle Nick travels dimensions. Beezle happens to be his ticket home.
                I burst through the entry, ready to charge into Beezle's cavernous lair. Only, it wasn't cavernous anymore. I nearly crashed into the close far wall. The room was as it had been ten or twelve years ago, when I unwittingly opened a portal for Beezle and launched my uncle deep into somewhere else. There were only two differences between now and then. The first was a large splotch of blood on the south wall. The second was a sealed envelope on the polished onyx floor. In shock I picked up the letter and examined the red wax seal. It was stamped with the letters CP. When I lifted the seal the bronze door slammed shut and a gust of wind circled the room. I ran to the door and inserted my key. It wouldn't turn. I tore the typewritten letter from the envelope and read,
 "Dear Lord Secrest,
 Until recently there has been an evil entity occupying this space. Whether you considered it a blessing, curse, or tenant, it will not bother you again. To ensure both your safety and cooperation this room has been sealed for the next twenty-four hours. Have an enjoyable weekend. As always, feel free to submit stories about any demons you encounter for inclusion in 'The Crimson Pact.'
 -The Spirit Traveler"
--to be continued---

Sorry for the break. I had to stop here to cry a little bit. Much as I hate to admit it, I've grown attached to Beezle. This is an emotional scene for me.

-Jason

(Crimson Pact references used with the written permission of Paul Genesse. Get the anthology or risk your life submitting your own demon related experience at www.thecrimsonpact.com)

Saturday, May 14, 2011

"I Beezle" or "The future is a delicate thing, Sir. Do try not to break it."

If you haven't yet read the previous post, I recommend that you peruse it. It contains facts and terminologies that I are slightly relevant to this post. I've moved the most important fact to this one though. Actually now that it's done and I'm really thinking hard about it, if you get this one fact you may not really need the rest, but maybe you'll understand a few more of the inner workings of the story? I certainly hope so after taking the time to type all that out. There is a story about a fire breathing opossum in the previous post if that's enticing to you at all...




I learned a new verb recently through the power of Google. I performed a search on Beezle, trying to decide how seriously people have been taking his newly formed e-cult, and this is what I found:
(http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Beezle). Of course, I took immediate interest. It's important to me to know if the things that Beezle sees on the internet can impact me negatively. As of the time of this posting, the most upvoted definition of 'beezle' on Urban Dictionary is as follows:
Beezle:
This term is used to describe any activity done for its own sake/pleasure. People seeing someone/something beezle will likely not understand why that person/creature/thing is doing whatever he/she/it is doing. Examples include: frolicking, climbing trees, most things done while stoned/drunk. Baby animals (and for some reason, squirrels, dolphins and whales) naturally beezle all the time. It's generally considered complimentary, but just a little confusing...
I had several reactions to this. First I had a good laugh at the image of Beezle romping playfully with aquatic and woodland creatures. Then I realized with shock that the term is accurate. If anyone beezles, Beezle does. What do you suppose he accomplishes by hypnotizing me at night and making me sleep dance? Or by pretending to be "The Mummy" and swallowing me with swimming pool water when I make use of the high dive? (I don't think I've ever mentioned it yet, but I that's actually how the Mansion House Wars started. I nearly drowned. Maybe I'll remember to tell you the story one day.)

Finally, I realized that if anyone else besides Beezle beezles, it would probably be me. I'm easily entertained, and I was actually glad to have a word to put to the group of actions that entertain me. Any word is better than "dinking around." However, to be honest I was a little terrified to learn that I do yet another thing that Beezle does. I don't like feeling similar to Beezle, but as time rolls onward my list of like traits keeps growing. I'm writing them off as meaningless - I'm not damning souls after all, but I've got to watch myself. Having more common ground makes it harder to keep my guard up.

That's not the point of this post though. The point is that I beezle, and that I need to be careful when I do it because there can be consequences. Here is an excellent example:

I rent an apartment in Provo out of necessity. I work and go to school at BYU and there are rare occasions when I can't quite seem to abstract* back to the mansion house. If those moments happen to come at night, I don't much like competing with Riverman Johnson for park bench space (or bridge space when the weather is foul.) I mentioned at one point that he told me he was going to acquire a sword and Chinese stars with which to defend his multiple forms of literature, didn't I? I can attest that he has acquired these, and that he is more than willing to defend his territory. His weapons are of poor quality and very dull, but they still hurt quite a bit when he manages to land a hit.

*(I've covered abstract travel recently, but here's the gist: to get to the mansion house I have to be both distracted and in motion. It's really not that hard, it just doesn't always work as advertised. I don't do magic, remember? It just happens to me when I'm not paying attention.)

I also like warm water. If there is time and hot water enough, I like to take long showers or baths. Even when I don't mean to take a long time, I loose track of time in the shower. It's because I relax and let my mind wander. Since I first came to the mansion house, I've spent inordinate amounts of time in the natural hot-spring cave that the mansion is built around. When I'm stuck in Provo, I can do almost as well at the outdoor hot tub behind the complex's clubhouse. The hot tub in question is large by apartment standards, and can accommodate perhaps twenty people if all of those people don't mind literally rubbing shoulders. When it's empty it feels spacious.

A few weeks ago on a thursday I was stuck at my digs in Provo. Feeling active I decided to have a short swim and to then enjoy the hot tub. When I got out of the pool the tub was empty and I was happy about that. I try not to beezle in public - it feels awkward. I eased into the tub and let the jets work on my back. As always my swimming trunks filled with air and I became more buoyant finding it harder to stay anchored to my seat (I am a very light person.) On this occasion however, I had a beezeling epiphany of sorts. I wondered If I could float on my back and drift about the tub in whatever direction the currents took me.

No sooner did I start my experiment then two very muscular guys and their girlfriends splashed into the pool. (I didn't actually see them because I was staring up at the stunningly clear big dipper. I just heard them through the water.) I sat up quickly to move out the way and to appear less silly. The thing is that sitting up while floating makes a person sink. I sputtered back up to the surface and took my original seat. The other four had the common decency to keep their chortling to a minimum, and for that I was grateful. I wondered how long they would be there and I busied myself by playing subtly with the flat leaf-like elm seeds that had fallen into the water. They floated nicely like little boats and I sent them off on excursions in the eddies.

When I was bored of sea seed missions I had another swim until the group left. I then I hustled back to the hot tub. I laid out on the water, puffing my chest out and tucking in my legs so that they didn't touch the bottom. The currents did the rest. I only bumped into an edge once and I was kept in a continual counter clockwise rotation with my head at the center. It was enjoyable and relaxing. The whole time I watched the crisp stars above me rotating. More than ever, the big dipper appeared to me as the turning hour hand of a giant clock. (It really is one. See the companion guide to this post). I must have made at least three full rotations before I realized that I had abstracted to the mansion house hot tub. (Not the hot springs cave. It doesn't grant an open view of the stars. There is an actual man-made hot tub outside, close to the pool and conservatory.)

Pleasently surprised and done with sailing about on my back, I toweled off and went into the kitchen through the servants door. I grabbed a roll from the constant supply Wadsworth keeps there, and pulled on the light fixture that opens the hidden door to the hidden passages behind the walls. (I like using the secret corridors every so often despite the fact that the standard hallways are much more comfortable. It's a beezle thing.) I walked happily toward the Master's Chamber until I heard Wadsworth's pleasant voice saying, "Will take your supper here or in the dining room sir?" I stopped dead in my tracks. I was at that point, just above my study. The secret passages are designed for eavesdropping (hence the clarity of Wadsworth's voice) and I unstopped a peephole in the floor. There was Wadsworth, and there was me. I was saying "No, the dining room will be fine. I'm nearly done reading this entry in Uncle Nick's journal and then I'll be in. What's for dinner?"

"A salmon steak with steamed vegetables, sir. What would you like to drink? I suggest that something citrus would complement the fish very well."

"What about that lemon orange concoction you put together? I like that."

"An excellent choice sir. May I help you in any other way, sir?" As he made this last remark Wadsworth's eye roved up to my peephole, and I had the distinct impression that he was talking to me, besides talking to me. Nothing gets by the man. He's as much ninja-sleuth as he is butler. I stoppered the hole and tried to comprehend what I had just experienced. Seeing myself wasn't totally new. I'd seen transparent and barely detectable versions of myself in many places in the mansion, doing different things without acknowledging me. I'd also seen gruesome figures in my image march happily to a joyful death in Beezle's fireplace. (These later were a demonstration to show me how easy it would for me at payment time, if I ever felt I wanted to buy something with my soul.) I had, however, never seen Wadsworth offer dinner to one of my  dopplegangers, and I was heavily disturbed that he should do so now. And hungry. It didn't help that I remembered having a similar meal three days earlier. It was phenomenal - the fish was moist and flaky with subtle interplays of spices and herbs.

As I thought longingly of the meal and made way for the kitchen to intercept Wadsworth I had a sudden more revealing insight. In the many years that I have eaten at the Mansion House, Wadsworth has never repeated a meal exactly except by special request, and he has certainly never cooked the same kind of fish twice in the same month. He would probably faint at the thought of it. I'd been reading my uncle's journal three days ago too. I had traveled time! I yanked the door open and launched into the kitchen.

"Good evening, Sir." said Wadsworth. To someone who didn't know him, he would have looked and sounded like nothing but pleased to see me. I've known him for long enough that I could tell he was annoyed as he continued, "Will you also be having salmon this evening? I regret that it will be a duplicate of something that you have presumably already consumed. With more notice I could have easily compensated."

"The salmon was excellent three days ag-- er.. today, I think it will be just as good.. um.. today. So, I'll just have what he's - er... what I'm having."

"Very good sir."

"I'm sorry about the short notice. Is there enough? I didn't exactly realize that there would be two of me today until just now."

"I am always prepared for unexpected guests, sir. There is always enough. May I offer a word of advice about your current adventure, sir?"

"Yes, please. That's why I came down."

"It is not well known what happens when one's past self comes into contact with one's future self. Theories range from nothing to a universal Armageddon. The current middle ground of the debate is that the person fades from existence. While scientists and pranksters alike might appreciate one's rushing in headlong to see the look on one's face, I suggest that the action would be inadvisable at best, Sir."

"Right. Well. I guess I'd better stay out of sight then."

"In that case, sir, I suggest that you make yourself scarce. I think I hear you coming."

"Oh. Distract me." I said, and I dived back into the passage way. I went up a floor and unstopped a peephole for the kitchen. I really didn't need to. I remembered the upcoming conversation, now that I had a clear picture of the day. As I'd placed a bookmark in my uncle's journal, Beezle had announced that, "THERE IS SOMETHING VERY INTERESTING TO SEE IN THE KITCHEN. I THINK YOU'D BEST HURRY OUT AND SEE WHAT IT IS BEFORE IT'S GONE."

Normally, I wouldn't pay much attention to something like that coming from Beezle, but the kitchen is next to the dining room and I happened to know that Wadsworth was there, so I didn't even feel the need for too much caution, just a bit of caution. I watched through the hole as I entered the room and said, "Looks like the kitchen, Beezle. An interesting kitchen, to be sure, but nothing I haven't seen."

"LOOK IN THE HIDDEN DOOR. IT WILL BE FUN."

"Have you seen this interesting thing, Wadsworth."

"As far as I can tell, sir, there is nothing out of the ordinary behind the afore mentioned door."

I can't help but marvel sometimes at Wadsworth's ability to misdirect without telling lies. I've only witnessed it on a handful of occasions, but I still marvel. On this occasion I wondered if he meant that I shouldn't be behind that door anymore, or that it wasn't out of the ordinary for me to be behind it. Knowing Wadsworth he probably meant both.

I watched myself open the door, see nothing, and say, "Nothing to report here."

"GO LOOK AROUND. IT'S IN THERE."

"If you will pardon me sir. Your salmon is approaching its optimal temperature for consumption. You may either have a meal that boarders on perfection or go chasing 'interesting things' through the passage ways; possibly with apocalyptic consequences, given Beezle's definition of the word 'interesting.'"

"I choose dinner," I said happily and I strode into the dining room with Wadsworth close on my heals.

I, the me upstairs, went back to the kitchen and waited for Wadsworth.

"HOW DOES HE DO THAT?" Beezle asked. He sounded genuinely interested. I could also hear him pleading me urgently to come back into the kitchen from the other room. I knew I was safe. I remembered being annoyed and shutting the dining room vents three days earlier so that I could eat in peace.

"Do what?," I responded, "Look so good? It's because he's me."

"HOW DOES HE LIE SO WELL?"

"He didn't lie. He told the truth."

"I'M AWARE. MAYBE I SHOULD TRY THAT SOMETIME."

"Wouldn't that be nice. The problem is that you'd start by telling me to come look at something that might make me fade into oblivion, and I would believe you."

"LIFE IS UNFAIR. I'M GOING TO GO ENLARGE SOME INSECTS. CARE TO JOIN ME."

"No thanks. Knowing you they'd probably try to eat me."

Beezle sighed loudly and added, "TELLING THE TRUTH GETS ME NOTHING. YOU WIN. YOU SHOULD REWARD YOURSELF BY TAKING DESERT INTO THE DINING ROOM EARLY";

Wadsworth came back and put together a to go box for me in preparation for driving me back to Provo. (Even distracted, Wadsworth is a competent and safe driver.) Before we left I had a final epiphany.

"Wadsworth, I failed a cleaning check tomorrow because I couldn't get a stain off of a wall. Do you have anything that might work?"

Wadsworth handed me a spray bottle of something green that smelled like minty lemons and said, "Try this Sir. And do be careful, Sir. The future is a delicate thing. Do try not to break it."

That was that. I left the bottle in a conspicuous place with the label, Care of Wadsworth, and avoided myself for three days. I passed my cleaning checks without breaking the future (finding myself 20 dollars richer in the process) and made sure to position myself for watching Jones crash into the conservatory. I figured if someone was going to demolish the side of a glass building I owned and I wasn't able to stop it, I'd at least better watch.

-Jason

The "I Beezle" Companion Guide - Kind of

There are four facts that are fairly relevant to the post "I Beezle". You can skip it if you like, but you might get confused and you might not learn the answer to the ultimate question: "Where do my left socks go?" On the upside, that's less reading if you just wanted a brief anecdote. If you want the best of both worlds, you'll find key words and phrases in bold. (Edit: really this is only semi necessary since I moved the main fact, fact four to the main post. There is still that bit about your missing socks though, and maybe you'll understand a bit more about how things work around the mansion house in general.)

Note: You may have noticed that I tend to get off on tangents and forget to get to important things that I've promised to tell you about. That would ruin the point of this companion guide to the other post so today I'm trying to herd my thoughts together with a new html tag that I've just invented: the <tangent></tangent> tag. If you didn't really care about my ramblings just look for the end tag and move on with the facts.

The Facts


Fact 1. I'm not talking about Beezle and what he likes to do with quarters today. I promised to and I meant to, but I've got something else on my mind today. Next time?


Fact 2. The big dipper is attached to the north star, a fixed point in the sky. Because of this, as the earth rotates the big dipper forms the hour hand of the largest twenty four hour analog clock in the known universe.


Fact 3. There are 2 main branches of magic, which I will informally call 'flashy magic' and 'just missed it magic'.
  • Fact 3.aGenerally speaking flashy magic is like the hood on a cobra, it's main function is to make the wielder look more powerful and impressive. Beezle loves flashy magic, and there are plenty of other natural examples. Take, for existence, two headed dragons, fire breathing opossums, and levitating islands in the sky. These are all about as useful as a forest fire.

    <Tangent>The levitating island was actually the aftermath of the legendary battle between and Eddie - the resident fire breathing opossum - and some wandering Siamese dragon who probably got distracted while flying and abstracted here. We now refer to the dragon as "Two Face." Eddie and Two Face burned down fifty acres of the western forest, but something about their magics didn't match up properly and the whole chunk of land just picked up and left. This was fortunate as the fire suddenly became self contained and spared me the joy of dealing with the fire department (They'll come, but they don't like it. They hate all of the flashy magic that goes on around here). Actually, it's still around here somewhere. I can't see it today, but it generally hovers over the lake at varied altitudes. Eddie won, by the way. He lives happily on the island among a rising generation of saplings and a few larger, somewhat singed, oaks and pines.</Tangent>
  • Fact 3.b. 'Just missed it' magic is the kind that happens just as you look away. This kind of magic is most relevant to me. I don't do magic. Magic just happens to me when I turn my head. Actually it happens to most people while doing laundry. Think about it. Why did you start the month with only paired socks of the same brand and end the month with half as many pairs and a large drawer full of differently branded and lonely unpaired socks? You just missed the originals straight into The Void and, like a slot machine, The Void spat missing socks from around the nation into your dryer.  (The Void is a real place known also as The Either, The Nether, and Under My Bed'). I also just miss my wallet, my cell phone, my truck keys, and my assignments on a regular basis (It gives me back gas station receipts, broken charger chords, keys to unknown doors, and last semesters homework.) Sometimes when I'm around other people for extended periods of time they accuse me of 'rubbing off' on them because they can't find something. The unfortunate truth is that I'm just missing things for them.

    Don't think that 'just missed it' magic is a complete pain. It's actually quite useful. It's the basis of the travel to and from the mansion house for one. For another, how do you think you miss the memos about waste of time meeting that you were supposed to go to (other than... you know, the times that you accidentally shredded that memo on purpose). Just missed it magic also makes the current day of the week Friday when you still think it's Wednesday, and causes to flowers bloom and money to stretch and all manner of other things besides loosing stuff.

    <Tangent>'Just missed it magic' is why it's so hard to tell real magicians and stage magicians apart. Stage magicians make you look at one hand while they load a coin into the other. Real magicians make you look at one hand while the other materializes a coin. If anybody (magician included) can see where the coin is supposed to pop into existence nothing happens. Sometimes real magicians are stage magicians. Take Penn & Teller for instance. Real magicians. They are the longest running inside joke of the magical community because they do real magic and then they show audiences a well performed trick that might explain the magical thing that they did. Masterful. </Tangent>

4th and Final Fact. I recently learned a new verb: "to beezle." This fact is the main point of the main "I Beezle" post, so I'll just use it as place to start from, shall I? Very good. See you there.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Nothings - AKA "Beezel's Poetry"

Beezle and I have history. I found a piece of it sitting on my desk today - a little scrap of paper that once floated to me from an air duct in the mansion house. It read as follows:

" Poetry; Airy Nothings - definitely not hints or riddles for anyone in particular.
-Beezle

~nothings
never did I think that with
orwell at the helm the ship would sink
tall gardens rise, planted far below
how ponderously their tendrils sway
i sway with them, finding peace in their shadow
nothing of life keeping
grasp adequate upon me
so goes another soul to Davy Jones."

I'm not so sure that Beezle has ever been a good poet. I'm not so sure that he's written much of it. This was the first occasion on which I encountered Beezle's musings. While I didn't find his work exceptional, I didn't think it was horribly bad either, and I was pleased that Beezle was writing about souls instead of taking them. I set it aside and forgot about it until later. I should have known better. I don't have time to tell the full story at the moment, but I thought the poem might be interesting for you to ponder on until I do.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Like (but not quite) a Thief in the Night

So... Bezel still hasn't relented and neither have I, but there have been other developments (as those of you who read the comments know).  Nathan, a good friend turned saboteur, recently invaded the home of my sweet and elderly neighbors, the Jorgensons. (I'm not sure how - maybe he was posing as some sort of repairman or something.) He did this so that he could install a wireless router in their home and trade the password to Beezle, who now values an internet connection as much or more than he values souls.

I assume that their transaction occurred on the night that I caught Nathan giddily trotting up the stairs from the basement at three in the morning. Though he was bright and chipper, I was sluggish and groggy. The evening went something like this:

"Nathan?"

"Oh, hi! There you are. I was just... looking for you."

"In the Basement? What time is it? What are you doing in my house?" (It should have occurred to me at this point that the alarms had never gone off. I wish that I'd asked about that. I wonder if he payed Will to turn them off.)

"It's time too... play Starcraft! I couldn't sleep, and we all know that you don't sleep, so I came to see if you wanted to play."

I yawned and said, "Why would I be sleeping right now?"

Nathan rolled his eyes and said, "Don't even give me that crap. You don't ever go to bed, at least not when normal people do. Don't even try to deny it, we all know that you hate your body and stay up all night playing games, 'cause you're definitely not writing. I haven't seen any new 'Amar' from you since I made you write last Saturday.

I rubbed the back of my hands across my eyes and managed, "Why didn't you just try to get me on g-chat?"

"Because, it is fact that you never log off when you're done at the computer and nobody in the entire freaking world can ever find you when they want to. Did you get your phone yet?"

"No... it's on it's way though," I slurred.

"Your stupid phone company takes longer than one of my Grandma's rants on Obama and government conspiracies. Do you know how long those are? They are freaking long. Anyway, you look like you're too tired to be any good at all tonight. We'd just get raped. Hard. So... go to bed, and I'm going home. Also, I'm taking this pie that Wadsworth left on table. Don't even try to say 'no' because you mooch from me and Bec all the time." (It's true. Nathan and Rebecca Major kept food in my mouth before I had Wadsworth. Now they and Derek's family take turns feeding me me on Wadsworth's days off.)

I gestured my assent and turned to stumble up the staircase toward my bedroom, and Nathan went after the pie. From the landing I heard the front door rumble open a few seconds later and Nathan yelled up at me, "And don't forget to write tomorrow. You haven't written for at least a week, retard. At least update 'Mansion House.'"

That was the end of the exchange, and until these recent comments on 'Riverman Johnson' I didn't think anything more of it. Now, we know "the rest of the story," or at least some of it anyways.

At first I was troubled when I realized that Beezle had another way to get at the internet.  My thought was that if Nathan became Beezle's internet provider, I would lose my one and only bargaining chip. Now though, I see that the nature of things has in truth turned to my advantage. You see, Nathan didn't take three important facts into consideration:

Fact 1: Beezle is in my basement. There's something about concrete and earth that impedes even the hardiest of signals.

Fact 2: Beezle's lair messes with traditional physics. Die hard Mansion House followers may remember that when I entered my basement for the first time, I was immediately taken by the sheer volume of the place, and realized that it couldn't possibly fit inside the mansion. The chandeliers were sitting exactly where my study and front parlor should have been. It's got something to do with inter-dimensional space-time physics or something. I don't understand it, but there it is.

Fact 3: As a direct result of fact one and fact 2, Beezle's wireless internet is comparable to bad dial up. It's worse than my family's internet connection was in the 90's when my dad's 386 would take over a minute to upload a page on a good day.

Beezle has been accustomed to the luxury of my cat5 connection, and he's not taking this reduction in speed well. In his words, "WITH THIS... IMPOSSIBLY SLOW CONNECTION, BROWSING THE INTERNET HAS BECOME A SPECIAL KIND OF HELL."

That's how I know i'm making progress with Beezle. He admits now, that it's not enough. Two days ago he couldn't stop trying to convince himself vocally that what he had was enough. You'd think that it would be the same for him as if there was no internet. It's not. He's so addicted that he can't help but sit there and wait for each page to load. I can tell when there's a spike in his download speeds because I can literally hear him scoot forward in anticipation. It might be that with the powers of the internet so close to Beezle, and yet, so far away, I may be able to reach an acceptable treaty with him.

The best part is that I've noticed a decline in the strange negative coincidences in my life. This could be because Beezle is so drawn to suffer through surfing that he doesn't have time to attack me. However, it might just be that he's switched targets... last week Nathan's phone died at an inopportune moment. Because of this, and other odd circumstances, he and his wife spent the entire evening trying to find each other instead of relaxing in their house. That could just be coincidence. I sincerely hope that it is. Otherwise, thank you Nathan. You've always been the kind of friend that was willing to take one for the team. (Rebecca, I sincerely apologize.)

-Lord Secrest

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Riverman Johnson

It is with great sadness that I announce that the epic struggles between Beezle and I, now commonly referred to as The Mansion House Wars, have not ended. They are getting worse, and I’m not coping as well as I would like to. The new semester is starting too, with all of the stresses of a new school year; but I am also finding that there is a measure of relief that comes with it. You see, I spend many more hours at the university than I do in my study. I like my study, but I’d like it more without Beezle’s constant interruptions.
I usually take the bus to school; I have many reasons for doing so.  First and foremost is parking. There is no special parking for owners of Mansions believe it or not, and generally speaking, those without assigned or privileged parking can expect to take longer to find a spot than they spend in class.  The second reason that I bus is that I save money. Last month I saved enough to pay Stan for his work on the grounds, and to eat out a few times. Finally, I like to ride the bus because of the environment. I can read on the bus. I can doze on the bus. I can watch quirky people, and eves drop on their phone conversations. (Please don’t think ill of me, but listening to people talk on the phone in public is a great way to stimulate the old grey matter for the invention of characters, plots, and settings. Knowing this, I stick to texting.)
On my way home yesterday, I wound my way to the back of the bus, stepped over the top of a beaten looking pack, and sat down. The seat next to me was vacant, so I dropped a sheaf of papers on it between me and a ragged looking man, presumably the owner of the pack. “Hey,” he said, looking out the window.
“Hello,” I responded cheerfully. He looked like the type of man who talks non-stop on a bus, and I was in a mood to listen, so I waited for him to continue. He didn’t. He only stared out the window. I shrugged and pulled out a book to read.
Without warning he leaned in close, overpowering me with his potent body odor, grinned, and said, “Hi, I’m Johnson!”
“Um… Hello,” I choked out. He leaned back again, and I caught my breath as tactfully as possible.
“I’m going north,” said Johnson. “I was going to go south, until I changed my mind.”
“Ah,” I said, “And what are you going to do when you get where you’re going?”
“I’m going to get some beer.”
“Oh?” I asked. I don’t drink, but I’m fairly certain  that there is beer to be found at every gas station in any direction so I probed a little further, “And what will you do then?”
“I’m going to drink some beer.” Johnson nodded profoundly.
I mirrored him seriously and said, “I see.”
“Then,” Johnson added, “I’m going to buy a two hundred dollar bike for thirty dollars.”
“That sounds like a great plan,” I said, “This is a nice time of year to spend some time on a bike.”
“Yep. And it’s good, because my last bike got stolen.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah! And would you believe they stole my bible too?”
“Oh, that’s terrible. I think I could get you another, if you need one.”
“Nah, I got another one, but it makes me mad.  They stole my dumbbells, and my bike, and my Bible and my nudie magazines! I just got some new ones today.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” I said (I was thinking mostly about the new purchase when I said it), “but I’m glad that you got another Bible. Where are you living?”
“Down on the river. I don’t like the homeless shelters here. I said some pretty rude things to them because they deserved it and they put me on suspension. I haven’t had a shower for three months! Can you believe that?”
 I nodded emphatically with overwhelming belief. “Yes, that’s really too bad. So, where on the river are you living?”
Johnson’s leaned in, bringing his three month old ambiance with him, and scowled, “I don’t tell people that.”
I put my hands in the air nervously and said, “I don’t blame you, after all that you’ve had to deal with.”
He leaned back again and said, “Yup. But the next time they come I’ll be ready for them. I went to the pawn shop and bought a sword and some Chinese Stars. They weren’t very sharp, but I’ve got them so sharp now that I can chop your head off, well maybe not all the way off, but most of the way. I’m gonna get a pellet gun too.”
The bus stopped, and Johnson stood up. As he walked forward he kept talking, and the further he went the louder he raised his voice so that I could still hear him, “Believe me, you don’t want a pellet in your ass! My cousin shot my ass with a pellet gun once and the pellet got stuck in there, I had to go to the -”
The doors closed, and I chucked, before offering a silent prayer that Riverman Johnson be safe from harm and theft. As an afterthought I prayed for the people that got too close to his possessions. I got off at the next stop walked leisurely to the Mansion and Promptly threw my stack of papers down on my desk. I withdrew to the smoking lounge and put my feet up for a few minutes. (I don't smoke, but honestly,  a non-smoked-in smoking room is a really cool room. Mine is furnished with overstuffed beige couches, chairs, a fireplace, a bar that I keep stalked with smoothy ingrediants, and several stuffed and mounted heads that once belonged to big-game animals that I never hunted. Sometimes I even put on a smoking jacket because those are also pretty fantastic.)  
I would have enjoyed the casual, restive silence but death metal was blasting through the vents. Honestly, I don’t think that Beezle likes it either. He just likes that I don’t like it. Before the Mansion House Wars he seemed to lean more towards classic rock and show tunes. (One time I was pleasantly surprised to walk in on him singing “Portobello Road” from Bed Knobs and Broomsticks. The pleasant ended when he started substituting torture instruments, pickled organs, and other gruesome items for the usual wares of the famed street market. I have to hand it to him though; he’s got a pretty spectacular voice.)
After a short break I shuffled back into my study, put in some earphones and started on my homework. I finished it, and tossed my folder of school papers to the side so that I could do my writing (This is “finish a book” month for Nathan, Derek, and I.) Instead, I was startled to discover the image of a busty and scantily clad woman gazing lewdly at me from my desk. She lounged seductively over a magazine stamped with the emblem of the Playboy Bunny. There was something else under it. I gingerly shifted the Playboy and found a Hustler. With a groan I realized that they must have been under my papers on the bus. I had unwittingly stolen Riverman Johnson’s replacement “nudie” magazines. I gingerly hefted them. I wasn’t sure what to do with them, but there was no way that they were staying on my desk.
I reached for my trashcan but then I remembered that as far as garbage is concerned, all roads lead to my dumpster – the magical home of a developing teenager. Not a good plan.  My cheeks were growing hot and my heart rate was rapidly climbing. I didn’t want to leave these out, and I didn’t want to conceal them anywhere, for fear that someone might find them and get the wrong idea.
Then I thought about Riverman Johnson, and remembered my prayer for those that touched his possessions. When I offered it I had no idea that it might touch this close to home. I prayed it again with twice the fervency. What if he suspected me? He might confront me loudly on the bus. I could already hear it, “YOU STOLE MY NUDIE MAGAZINES!” I flushed harder and tried to think. "Maybe," I thought, "I can avoid a scene if I just put them in my bag and hand them back discreetly tomorrow." Then I realized that such an action would necessitate bringing pornography to and from a campus where it is strictly prohibited upon pain of expulsion until Riverman Johonson decided to go North instead of South again. 
"Maybe, I thought, "It would just be better to find a safe place to burn these and then hand him a ten dollar bill discreetly." Was there such a thing as discreet with Riverman Johnson? Would he make less of a deal about it if he got the original merchandise? I swiveled in my chair and hovered the magazines over my backpack, trying to make a decision.
 “Pardon me, Sir, but -“
“I jumped and shouted, throwing the magazines across the room. One of them landed, open to the centerfold I might add, at the highly polished feet of Wadsworth. He glanced down, then quickly up at me. His eyes riddled me with accusation, but his tone remained polite and respectful as ever as he said, “Please excuse the interruption, Sir. I did not wish to infringe on your… personal time. My intentions were to announce my return, but I have just remembered an important item of business that I have neglected. Perhaps it is for the best; my absence will give you time to conclude your indulgences.”
“No, Wadsworth, I’m not –“
William appeared next to Wadsworth holding a McDonalds soft-drink and said, “Hey, I heard a scream, is everything – is that a Playboy?” Without looking, and with great speed, Wadsworth flipped the offensive material shut (cover side down) with the toe of his shoe.
I was finding it difficult to breath. I leaned back in my chair, covered my face with my hands and groaned, “It’s not what you think!”
“Well,” drawled Will, “I think it’s a Playboy Magazine. Am I wrong? Is it Penthouse? Hustler?” He sucked at the straw of his drink, getting mostly air.
                “I HAVE RECENTLY LEARNED OF A WONDERFULL GAME CALLED TWENTY QUESTIONS. MAY WE PLAY IT?”
                I feebly wondered how I’d missed the moment when the blaring music had shut off, and Beezle had tuned in.
                “Look,” I said, issuing a silent command for my cheeks to lose their blush, “These aren’t mine! I accidently stole them from a homeless man -”
                “IS IT JUST ME, OR DOES THAT SEEM BOTH IMPLAUSIBLE AND CRUEL?”
“- and I was trying to figure out how to get rid of them before something like this happened.”
                “Why didn’t you just throw them away?” asked Will, and he took another air filled pull at his straw. I narrowed my eyes at him, but Wadsworth did better. He shot his hand out to pinch the air, on the way he clipped Will’s head with force.
                “Owe!” said Will, putting his hand to his head, “What was that for?”
                “I apologize, young Master William. I spied a small insect, and thought to escort it from the building.”
                Sure enough, there was a fly squirming in Wadsworth’s fingers. Will’s expression said that he didn’t know whether to be annoyed or in awe. I settled on both satisfaction and awe and said, “Take Will with you. When you’re done, come back and help me get rid of these things.”
                “Very good, Sir,” said Wadsworth, but Will protested, “Hey! Who’s gonna watch him. We’re just going to leave him in here by himself with those?
                “THAT’S A VALID POINT. STUFF THE FILTH DOWN THE VENTS IN THE FLOOR, JUST TO BE CERTAIN.”
                Wadsworth scooped the magazines up and held them under his arm saying, “If you don’t mind, Sir, I shall remove you from suspicion.”
                “Please,” I said, waving him away, “get them out of my study.”
                He marched out with Will and I flopped back in my chair.
                “WHO KEEPS TABS ON THE BUTLER?”
                “Some people don’t need to be watched, Beezle.”
                “NOT ACCORDING TO JUVENAL, OR ALAN MOORE FOR THAT MATTER.”
                I glared at the vent and changed the topic, "How did you mange to pull this one off anyhow?"
                “SURELY YOU DON'T SUSPECT TO PASS THE BLAME FOR THEFT FROM THE HOMELESS TO ME? PERHAPS YOU SHOULD TAKE A LITTLE BIT OF RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR ACTIONS. YOU MIGHT START WITH ADMITTING TO THE CHARACTER FLAWS AND JEALOUSIES THAT LED TO THE REVOCATION OF MY INTERNET PRIVILEGES.”
                “Jealousies?”I roared, "What could I possibly be jealous of? Devious nature? Unabashed destruction of lives? Living damnation?"
                “YES, AMONG OTHER THINGS, THOUGH I'M SURPRISED THAT YOU FORGOT TO MENTION RAW POWER, DEVILISH CHARM, AND IMPOSSIBLY GOOD LOOKS"
                I stood, prepared to ream Beezle throughly, but at that moment Wadsworth returned, and said, "Arguing only tends to encourage him, Sir, I would advise against it." I wanted to ignore him, but I knew he was right, so I riped the cover off the vent and stuffed a jacket inside. I slumped back down in my chair and sighed before explaining the complexity of the situation to Wasdsworth. He listened carefully before saying, “Perhaps it would be best if I return these directly to Mr. Johnson, sparing your Lordship both an embarrassing encounter and the burden of storing these… distasteful publications.”
“How? He wouldn’t tell me where he lived.”
“I have seen his place of residence in my morning walks along the river.”
“If you could do that, it would be fantastic, Wadsworth.”
“Then I shall deliver them shortly.”
“I can come with you.”
“Alas, Sir, I regret that you may not accompany me. It would be dishonest for me to reveal the location of Mr. Johnson’s residence after he has purposfully withheld that knowledge from you.”
“Right. Well then. Cary on Wadsworth, and be careful please. He has a sword that he claims is sharp enough to decapitate you half-way.”
“I shall be cautious, Sir. Will that be all?”
“Before you go, I’d like you to tell me one thing. How did you get a fly to line up so well with Will’s head?”
“I regret to inform you sir, that the fly was a deception.” Wadsworth retrieved something small from his pocket and placed it in my hand. It was a rubber fly.
“But it was wriggling and buzzing between your fingers.”
“The ‘ACME Ninja Fly’ comes equipped with an electronic device that activates when the wings are pressed together.”
I picked the fly up by the wings, holding them firmly together. It sprung to life, buzzing angrily and fighting to get away.
I smiled and said, “This is great! Where did you get it?
“It was a gift from my niece.“
And so it was, that between light conversation and the ensuing light refreshments that Wadsworth again saved my bacon. If I had any money to spare I’d offer him a raise.

Monday, August 23, 2010

Demonic Control Systems

Yesterday was Sunday; so let’s review with a short pop quiz on the good book. No cheating now…
           1.) Complete this proverb: "It is better to dwell in a corner of the housetop, than with a brawling _____ in a wide house." 

           2.) The number of the beast is:

All right. Pencils down. You may grade your own work. The answers are “Beezle” and “404”. Don’t object, I can prove it.
A few years ago, I worked at a place that helped Troubled Teens to work out their lives. (“Troubled Teens is capitalized because when teens are involved, everything gets emphasis). Specifically, I worked in the boys’ home. I loved it and I built some deep relationships with the guys. However, anytime the words Troubled and Testosterone can be put in the same sentence look out. Now, I’m a great guy (can I say that? I’m humble too..) and I’m easy to get along with, but sometimes I’m also a push over, and I was getting pushed over from time to time. I didn’t mind so much, but it wasn’t helping our clients to get to the places that they needed to go.
What I lacked was better training. The company had some scheduled but it was weeks away. One of my coworkers, an ex-marine, noticed my severe need and pulled me aside for some one on one coaching in the art of De-escalation (military style).
I won’t go over every step of the De-escalation model, but I’ll give you the essence. In a tense situation people escalate. They back themselves into corners and don’t see any way out except for to fight out. De-escalation is the art and science of giving people a way to choose to walk out of their corners unharmed. Just as importantly, it is to be able to skillfully escalate your response without escalating the situation when those people choose NOT to walk away.  Fortunately, these concepts can also be applied to Demons. Take the following scenario:
It’s a beautiful summer day; perfect for hiking. You happen to know that there are plenty of nasty bugs outside, so you smother yourself in your DEET packed death spray. You yourself will die a year earlier because of it, but for now you are safe from West Nile Virus and Malaria.  At least, you think you are until you find yourself slapping yourself silly within moments of walking out side. Upon closer inspection you discover that you are drenched in sugar water. This is because Beezle has recently illegally downloaded and watched “The Parent Trap.”
You happen to be a pro at De-escalation, so you casually walk down to the basement and say, “Hey, Beezle, will you do me a favor and stop pirating shows? Particularly, will you experiment on me with the things you watch? Thanks. I appreciate it.” Here, you’ve given Beezle a chance to back down; a way to choose to behave. All you’ve done is make a polite request for compliance. The ball is in Beezle’s court.
That night, you have full feature nightmares about a dungeon and a cassette tape that delivers instructions to you. You must either crawl through burning coals or lose your leg. The dream doesn’t end until in a cruel twist of fate, both events occur. Surprise, surprise, Beezle pirated several seasons of “Saw.”
You collect yourself and walk calmly to the basement. “Beezle,” you say, as you admire the wing’s that he’s grown in tribute to Fantasia’s Bald Mountain, “If you ever do this kind of thing again, I’m taking your internet connection away.” Now, Beezle has a clear set of choices. He can escalate the situation, knowing the consequences, or he can choose to comply. If you’d just yanked the chord on the first or second offence, you have nothing left to leverage him with and he has fewer chances to comply. You win temporarily. He wins for the rest of the year while he puts dead mice in your light fixtures and partially developed eggs in your fridge. He doesn’t care. You’ve already taken the thing he loves most, and unlike Troubled Teens, you lack the power to restrain him. The key is to gradually escalate so that Beezle can choose to de-escalate the situation through compliance.
So, that’s what you do if you’re a pro. Unfortunately, I am not a pro. At least, not at the mansion I’m not. Granted, I was pretty ticked about the Swimming Pool Incident, but losing my cool won the battle, lost the war, and enraged the beast that lives in my basement.
The week that I cut the cord to the basement was a hard one for Beezle. It started hard for him. That Monday I woke to a blood curdling scream. I leapt from my bed with a start, gracefully bounded through my bedroom door and the hallway, hurdled over a couch, and skipped three steps at a time on the stairway to the basement. In my mind, there exactly one reason for a scream like that to emanate from Beezle’s domain. He must have successfully purchased, and be in the process of extracting, a soul. (I should mention, by the way, that there is a strict ban on human sacrifice in my home. If Beezle wants to do that kind of thing he’ll have to find another landlord.)
What I found shocked me beyond description. Beezle was curled in a corner of the room, cowering with an expression of horror on his face. He was pale, and his usually arrogant and condescending eyes betrayed fear. Confused, I looked frantically around the room. Nothing seemed out of place except for Beezle’s bone throne.
“What?” I asked, “What is it?”
Beezle’s voice was calm, contradicting his demeanor, “I have finally been found. It is only a matter of time, now, before terror rains down upon us.”
“Who?”
Beezle looked at me meaningfully and his tone chilled my blood as he said, “the Four-Hundred-and-Four Terrors”
My breath caught in my throat, but I managed, “The what?”
“The Void, The Darkness, Shorn. The deeper darker being which I once betrayed. I believe we have discussed him before.”
I’ll be frank. I nearly wet myself. Beezle is the most powerful, morbid, and frightening thing I’ve encountered; and he has been hiding like a small child from this other greater and fouler tempered entity for millennia. Over the beating of my heart I could barely hear myself ask, “What makes you think it’s coming?”
Beezle gestured dejectedly toward his computer monitor and said, “He has discovered my activities, halted them, and marked me.”
 I fearfully approached the screen and read, “404 – CONTENT NOT FOUND”
I laughed loudly in relief, causing Beezle to have an angry outburst wherein he described the numerous horrors that were about to befall my house and all within. None of them were family friendly, and I don’t dare attempt to describe them. In fact, I’m doing my best to suppress them. Until then I’ll be sleeping with the light on.
It took most of the day to convince Beezle that four-O-four errors are a standard non threatening part of internet life. He spent the rest of the day grumbling about symbolism and signs and all sorts of apocalyptic things. I was just relieved that the apocalypse wasn’t happening actively in my basement.
He eventually regained composure, but he still had nervous energy built up and I think he resented that I had seen him in his moment of weakness. I assume that these were the factors that led to what Wadsworth is now calling the Swimming Pool Incident, which deserves (and will be given) its own post. I didn’t say a word. I just cut the cord and that was that. I let Wadsworth explain the new “server not found” errors. I waited for complaints and obnoxious magical retaliations to flood through the vents shortly thereafter. Normally, I would have braced myself, but on that day I truly I didn’t care.
Vengeance never came. Instead, Beezle gave me the cold shoulder. Everything has been silent and almost peaceful – almost, in that the silence is violently tense. For days I crept around corners, tortured by the thought that Beezle might finally vent his wrath with some fearfully murderous surprise. Nothing happened for a full week. Then, just as I was starting to relax, things started happening. It’s like my Karma went bad or my Yin and Yang fell out of balance. I can’t pin anything directly on Beezle, but I know it’s him. He’s making surgical strikes against my peace of mind and well being.
My phone was the first thing to go. Will and I took a hike a few days ago with a friend of mine named Derek. We were fishing a stream that on one side had a quick current but that on the other had a few nice little pools. There was a nice little log spanning the length of one of the pools and we decided to go sit on it. We forded the stream, leaving most of our gear, backpacks included, sitting on the bank. Everything was fine and pleasant until a little snake poked it’s head out of a whole in the log, stuck out it’s tongue, and retreated. A fierce flash storm appeared out of nowhere. By the time we got back to the far bank, our backpacks were soaked, and my phone was fried. I’m on my parents’ family plan and my service provider is a small homegrown company that’s housed several hours away. Therefore, I’m phoneless for a while.
Shortly after my phone problem, Wadsworth got an urgent message from a friend or relative, calling him away for a few weeks. I can manage myself for a while, but I’m not good at taking random ingredients that happen to be lying about and making something edible out of them. My grocery budget is gone till the end of the month, so I’m scrambling to keep on top of things. I’m getting hungry and so is Will. I can tell, because he’s also getting extra attitude. I’m also suffering Wadswoth’s absence in other ways. He kept me organized. I’m starting to miss appointments and lose things.
Then there was today. I drove a few miles down the road to a church meeting, and when I was done the truck wouldn’t start. As luck would have it, everyone else had already gone. Also as luck would have it, a friend at church had asked me to deliver an important document to a neighbor before said neighbor left for the airport. I couldn’t call anybody – my phone is still dead and all of the numbers of people I would call are stored therein. I tried hitching a ride but only person who noticed my thumb was a teenage girl that looked at me like I was jack the ripper. After that, I just ran until I almost had a stroke. The neighbor was angry at the delay, but tried not to show it. Several hours later I caught Nathan on G-Chat. He picked me up and let me call AAA roadside service on his phone. Triple A is magic, by the way. They have the power to counteract demonic curses – for how long I don’t know, but it was at least long enough to get home.
Something else is coming up. I can feel it. So, what do I do? How do I get Beezle to settle down without giving up my authority? I can’t just give him back the internet without telling him between the lines that he can make me bend to his will if he misbehaves badly enough.  Any suggestions are welcome and wanted. I’m so desperate that I’m allowing anonymous comments. So, lay them on me…

~

DIRECTORS CUT: I wrote a long explanation of the de-escalation model and axed it in favor of a more condensed version. However, de-escalation is pretty cool, so I'm dropping it in here. If you don't care, then just skip to the comments.
DISCLAIMER: I'M NOT A PRO, I'M NOT A SHRINK, I'M NOT A MILITARY MAN - I can barely remember what the military man said, so take the following with a grain of salt, and if you intend to ever ever ever apply it, be sure to consult someone who knows what they're talking about. I just think it's a cool approach to a situation where you have both the need and the authority to calm a situation down - like if Beezle breaks into your house and holds your kids hostage...

The best way for me to explain this is with an example:
It’s 10:00 PM; time for bed. You make a loud announcement declaring that bedtime be observed. A TT (Troubled Teen) named Timmy is lingering on the sofa he shows no indication that he acknowledges the existence of either bedtime or you. He’s pushing the limits to see how far he can step out of line and be “OK.” A mental boxing match has just started and Timmy is testing your defenses with soft jabs. You quickly don your De-escalation Gloves and maneuver.
If you’re a rooky you glare at Timmy, raise your voice and spit out, “Timmy, get your but in bed now.” (You probably wanted to say “ass” but you’re in my scenario; so you don’t get to.) What you’ve just said is, “I am your Lord and Master. Obey or die.” It’s a challenge and Timmy can’t back down now without losing face, or self respect, or cool points, or whatever happens to be in that day. Instead, he’ll try to make you feel stupid about being so intense. The situation will escalate and no matter how it ends, it won’t be pretty.
If you’re a pro, you glance up and casually state, “Hey Tim, it’s ten, will you go to bed please?” or maybe you verbally “presuppose” that he’s going to do what you asked and say, “Hey bud, on your way to bed will you ______”. Maybe you do something equally casual and non threatening that says, “Will you please make going to bed be your decision?” You’re giving control to him. He can either choose to escalate the situation further, or to back down without injury. If he continues to ignore you then you change the request for compliance to a firm, yet calm and non threatening, instruction: “Tim, go to bed.” If that is ignored then you make a statement of imminent consequence. “If you don’t go to bed, X consequences will be applied.” If Tim continues to choose to escalate the situation, you apply the consequences.
Here we can count and see that Timmy has had four chances to choose to comply without injury. Every time that he escalates he knows that he is making the situation worse for himself. In other words, it’s harder for him to resist authority than it is for him to comply with it.
If Timmy is stubborn and keeps pushing you just calmly continue a two part cycle: make statements of imminent consequences. If he won’t comply apply the consequences. These consequences are always preplanned, immediate, and gradually intensified toward some ultimate consequence, depending on the situation.
If you started with “Tim, go to bed or you will be restrained and placed under constant surveillance,” then Tim get’s one chance to back down. If Tim repeats this kind of behavior often, then he becomes desensitized to the most intense consequences that you apply. He no longer cares if he escalates the situation because he’s been there before.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Dumpster Diving

From my first night in the mansion I have known that it has various secrets. Some I’ve discovered with little effort (Beezle made his presence known speedily), while I have probed at others with very little success. On rare occasions I stumble into something unexpected and surprising. Whether I am pleased by such surprises has been widely varied. For example, I recently stumbled upon a secret compartment containing a sum of money large enough for me to pay my tuition for one semester (have I mentioned that I’m a poor college student?). On another occasion, I discovered carnivorous toilet. I barely escaped with my life and gained a new resolve to pay better attention to phrases like, “Perhaps this restroom is best avoided, Sir.”

This week I made an entirely new discovery, and I’m not certain what to make of it. It’s got to do with the dumpster. You see, I was thinking about my recent troubles with William. I chronicled them for you last week, but let me briefly refresh your memories.

I took issue with Will’s evening bathroom habits. He took issue with my existence as an authoritative figure in his life. Changing the topic, he requested that a door be added to the dumpster to improve his access. I suggested that he take a room in the mansion. He took offence and left me wondering what was so compelling about living in a dumpster. I ended my thoughts by asking you, my readers, for your thoughts.
Nathan Major, a good friend and associate suggested, “When life gives you a kid in a dumpster, buy a new dumpster.” Beezle heartily agreed and promoted swift action on my part.

I appreciated the humor from Nathan, and ignored the sincerity from Beezle, and went on with life a little less stressed for a few days. However, I kept thinking about the conversation and Will and the things he’s dealing with as a teenager. I was a teenager a short time ago… I’d never go back to it – not if you paid me, not for the world. I remember having some weird notions and strange feelings about things; and how nice it was when somebody who knew better would just nod their head and go along with me for a little while.

I remembered Will’s birthday too, so I started making some phone calls to welders to see about getting a door on that dumpster. The first guy said, “you want what?” and wouldn’t quit laughing long enough to talk business. The next one was serious enough, but he also said that “it is a violation of state and federal law to modify a dumpster in a fashion inconsistent with its original design and/or intended purpose.”

Finally I ran across Stan of “Stan’s Odd Jobs and Custom Welding.” I asked for an estimate on cutting a door into the side of a dumpster and braced myself for another disappointment. After a long silence he drawled, “Wellllll, I guess I’ve been asked to do stranger things. I’ll jus’ come down ‘n’ take a look right now, if that’s ok wi’choo” (“wi’choo” translates from redneck to “with you” in standardized English).

Stan’s base of operations is close and I had just enough time to shove Will out the door on a fake errand and wheel the dumpster into the garage before Stan knocked on the door. I let Wadsworth get it, but I stood back in the hallway and watched the exchange (I enjoy watching Wadsworth work, it’s inspiring.)

Stan is average in height but stocky.  He has a dark tan, a wind worn face, and sandy brown hair that usually stick out in every direction. He had it covered it with a well used cap, but it didn’t help much.
When Wadsworth answered the door I watched Stan remove his cap respectfully and say, “This the place that wants a door in the dumpster?”

“Yes, Sir, Lord Secrest is expecting you.”

“And you don’t want me to do nothin’ in the basement, right?”

“No, Sir. That will not be necessary.”

“Good, ‘cause I’ve been here before. You know you got a monster or somethin’ down there? ‘Boilzees’ or ‘Beezus’ or somethin’? Worst customer I ever had.”

“IT’S BEEZLE, YOU TWIT, AND I DEMAND A REPLACEMENT OR A FULL REFUND FOR THE IRONWORKS YOU INSTALLED TWO YEARS AGO – YOUR ARTISTIC RENDERING OF ‘IMPALED SACRIFICES’ ISN’T NEARLY AS SATISFYING AS I ONCE FOUND IT.” boomed the vent in the great hall.

Stan jumped and his eyes widened. He whispered behind his hand, “Does he do that all the time?”

Wadsworth nodded and said, “Frequently, Sir, yes.”

Stan licked his lips and raised his voice, “Now, Mr. Beezus, you agreed in writing that I don’t replace nothin’ ‘less I put it in wrong or it broke.”

A loud snap cracked out from the vent, and Beezle said, “OH DEAR, SOMETHING SEEMS TO HAVE DETACHED FROM ‘IMPALED SACRIFICES.’ THE POORY INSTALLED IRONWORK HAS GONE AWRY.”

Stan scowled. “Also, I inspect carefully for signs of intentional vandalism.”

“OH. DAMN.”

After a short silence Wadsworth said, “I trust that your business with Bezel has concluded. May I show you to the garage.”

Stan nodded, and I spoke up, “Thank you, Wadsworth, I can take it from here.”

“Very good, Sir.”

While I walked with Stan, his eyes wandered everywhere and he did a half turn every time he took a step. He caught sight of a particularly dazzling chandelier and let out a low whistle followed by, “What’s a place like this cost anyways?”

“Not much, surprisingly,” I said, “But that’s probably got something to do with the tenants.” I pointed to the basement. Stan nodded severely.

“YES,” Beezle piped up, “BETWEEN THE DUMPSTER-DIVER AND THE WOULD-BE SOCIALITE AUTHOR, THE ESTATE IS TRULY GOING DOWNHILL.”

“The little son-of-a-gun’s got a mouth on him don’t he? He’s worse than my sister. ”

“YOU PROBABLY FORGET HER NAME TOO, DON’T YOU?”

Stan shrugged, and we kept moving.

In the garage he spied the the dumpster up and said, “Well, let’s see what we got here… looks pretty standard.” He opened the lid and peered inside, “Metal’s in good condition; don’t see any corrosion at all. Should make for a pretty clean job. I think I can get ‘er done pretty quick. I think I’d charge you, oh…” he named a price, and I frowned at it.

“Stan,” I said, “This may surprise you, considering that I’m living in a mansion, but I not so well to do. I was basically given the place. Can we work out something a little cheaper?”

Stan scratched at the scruff on his chin and gazed at the dumpster. He folded his arms and worked his tongue around in his moth for a while. Finally, he looked back at me and asked, “You got yourself a Gardner?”

I shook my head. “Had one for a while, but I could afford to keep him on. Will’s been mowing the grass and Wadsworth handles the flowers.”

 “Well, I’ll tell you what: I’m lookin’ to pick up an extra job or two. You let me handle your grounds and call me first on any maintenance you need done an’ I’ll throw in the dumpster for free.”

 “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Stan,” I said, “but I doubt I can offer you enough money to make it worth your time.”

Stan thought for a little longer and said,“Well, how about a cook? You got one of those?”

“Wadsworth does most of the cooking around here.”

“He any good?”

“I’ve never eaten better.”

Stan grinned widely, “Well I can’t cook to save my life. You have your Man rustle somethin’ up for me a couple time times a week and I’ll do your grounds for next to nothin’.”

I grinned, “I think we’ve got a deal.”

We shook on it, and he set up his equipment to work on the dumpster. Then he lifted the lid and said, “This’ll work best if I crawl inside. That way I can make the door flush with the edge of the floor.” He scrambled in. He let out a low whistle again and shouted, “Holy Moses! Wasn’t expecting that! This is some dumpster mister.”

Puzzled, I looked inside the dumpster. Stan was looking around him with the same look of bedazzlement that he’d displayed inside the mansion, but I didn’t see anything special: there were a few old suits, old news papers, yesterdays light refreshments, and that was about it. Everything looked standard.

“What’s so special about it?” I asked.

“Well Gee Wilikers; you ever been in this thing?”

“No.”

“Then I think maybe you should get in here. This thing’ll shock you better’n a cattle prod.”

I heaved myself over the edge and in the process started saying, “Now, what’s so –,“ I had planned to say “special,” but I was stunned speechless. I found myself standing in a ten foot by ten foot by ten foot room. The décor was as just as grand as in the mansion. A chandelier hung from the ceiling. The walls and floors were polished, white, and sparkling. I wasn’t sure if they were stone or metal or some sort of wonderful mixture. The room was fully furnished with a large wardrobe, an unmade bed, a messy desk, several tables and stands of various types, and a set of ornate furniture. The newspapers that as viewed from above had been ripped and strewn about were now precisely folded, stacked, and organized by date on a short round end table in the corner. Yesterday’s refreshments sat invitingly on a silver platter on a cherry wood coffee table. I turned around in a daze to find that the wall behind only remained vertical till just below my shoulders, after that it took a sharp me angled upward until it met with the ceiling. A large window was set in at exactly the same height that the dumpster lid would be, in fact I could see the hinges on the upper sill. On exactly the opposite wall was a softly glowing silver door with an engraved golden handle. I walked to the door and reached out to finger the handle.

Stan grabbed at my hand and growled, “You got bolts for brains? Who knows but that it opens into that monster's fireplace? When I installed that ironwork, I saw more’n one door just like it, an all of ‘em were in nasty places, so you just keep your hands to yourself until I’m out’a this dumpster.”

I stepped back quickly, thinking shakily of the twenty foot flames I’d seen in Beezle’s suite. I walked to the window, put my hands on the seal and looked out. Will was standing in the garage and he looked angry.

To make a long story short, Will was fairly upset about the invasion of his privacy. The phrase that best sums up his side of the conversation was, “I asked you to put a door in, not have a party in my bedroom.” I however, am proud to say that I remained relatively calm, and after many apologies from both me and Stan he finally let it drop. He was also very pleased with the door. Stan welded installed in from the outside by cutting a hole and installing a latch. Will let us check it out from the inside. Inside the dumpster the door formed as intricately carved oak set into a crystalline archway. Stan kept walking inside the dumpster and back out again inspecting his work. He’d swing the door from side to side on other side and more than once I heard him mutter, “How the hell did I do that?”

Will still won't tell me what the silver door is for, but if I ever find out, I'll fill you in.

-Jason L. Secrest