Mr. Fish & Other Fantasy Tales. David Ph.D Dicaire

Mr. Fish & Other Fantasy Tales - David Ph.D Dicaire


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am.”

      “Get down from there.”

      “How about a little help?”

      Desmond put down the contraption and attempted to help Luther get down from the tree. The vine started to tangle the tall, thin man and soon they are both intertwined into knots.

      Suddenly, something whizzed by and stopped.

      “Is that what I think it is?”

      “I told you The Determinator was going wonky.”

      Desmond and Luther swung back and forth as the glowing light buzzed around them. They struggled valiantly to get down but the more they squirmed, the tighter the knots became.

      “This is killing me.”

      “These knots are killing me.”

      Suddenly there was a flash and they were free; Luther fell on top of Desmond.

      “Get off me.”

      “Sorry, Desmond.” Luther climbed off of his partner.

      They looked around but the glowing light was gone.

      “The thing didn’t make hardly any noise.”

      “Now concentrate on the mission at hand.”

      “I’m right on it, Desmond.”

      The bright light sailed behind Luther and stopped for a moment to investigate, then sprinted off without being detected.

      Desmond put the headphones back on and lowered the volume as The Determinator began to make some noise.

      “Get the special time elapse camera ready because this thing is starting to go crazy again.”

      Luther reached around and the glowing light zipped to the other side out of sight. He pulled out the camera from the pack of stuff he was carrying and then turned around. The undetermined flying object returned to its previous spot.

      Desmond held the microphone toward Luther. “It’s coming from you.”

      “That’s impossible.”

      “Turn around.”

      Luther turned around and the glowing light slid on his backpack. The Determinator was going absolutely crazy.

      “It’s on you.”

      “Where is it?” Luther went crazy spinning around in circles. “Get it off me, Desmond.” In the process, the camera flew out of his hands. The glowing light shot out from the backpack and escaped.

      Desmond ran for the camera but it was too late.

      “Luther.”

      “It isn’t my fault, Desmond. Why do you blame me for everything?”

      “Come on, it couldn’t have gotten too far.”

      Luther took the camera from Desmond. The latter picked up the gadget and they moved on.

      They had walked for about an hour and Luther rested on a stump.

      “Can we rest for a few minutes? I’m beat.”

      Desmond stopped and removed the headphones.

      “I wonder what that thing was? It looked like a fairy but it could have been a sprite or something else.”

      “Whatever it was, it got too close.”

      “Luther you can’t be afraid of what were tracking. This could be the one mission that really changes are careers as investigators.”

      Desmond turned around and The Determinator started to smoke and whine. The glowing object sat on top of the contraption.

      “Take a picture. Take a picture.”

      Luther fumbled with the camera and before he could take a picture, the glowing light had stolen a piece of The Determinator. It flew off and they gave chase.

      Luther trying to get the light to sit still aimed the camera wildly clicking fast and furious. He backed up and fell down a steep embankment.

      “Desmond.”

      Desmond ran over and peered over the side where Luther was hanging on to a branch.

      “When are you going to stop goofing off?”

      “Who says I’m goofing off?”

      Desmond helped Luther up.

      “You think I was goofing off, Desmond? Check these pictures out.”

      He clicked the camera and started to pour through all the shots taken.

      “Well, what do we have?”

      “Lots of pictures of the trees and the sky.”

      “I should have left you at home.”

      “Come on, Desmond, you know we’ll get them.”

      Desmond sighed. “At least we know they’re here.”

      “Whatever that thing was it’s going to make us a million dollars.”

      “Yeah, a million dollars.” Desmond turned the knobs on the Determinator and aimed it at the trees searching for any sign of the light but it was gone.

      “We might as well make our way back to the truck and set up camp for the night.”

      “Good idea.”

      They trudged back and Luther munched on a berry.

      “Want one?”

      “They could be poisonous.”

      “I can’t help myself. They’re delicious.”

      “Tomorrow we’re going to get our pictures.”

      “Yeah, tomorrow.”

      When they arrived at the truck, they packed their gear and a few minutes later were fast asleep.

      2

      It was late at night. The crickets wouldn’t shut up and somewhere a prairie dog or one of its relatives decided to howl at the pale moon. Desmond tossed and turned and finally sat up.

      “I can’t sleep with all this racket going on. In the city, we only hear ambulances and sirens and people screaming. So Luther, want to play cards? I’ll give you a chance to win your money back.”

      But Luther was gone.

      Desmond got out of the makeshift bed and made his way outside. He grabbed a flashlight, a couple of flares and his walking stick.

      He had made it a few feet up the path when Luther, running as fast as he could, flattened Desmond.

      “Run, they’re after me.”

      Desmond didn’t have time to recover before he looked up and saw a bevy of glowing lights buzz by. They were like a gang of angry bees on the warpath.

      “Luther, get the camera.”

      Desmond stood up and half of them attacked him. He did his best to fight off the ferocious glowing lights.

      Luther rushed back to the truck and fumbled with the equipment. He left the hatch open and ran back with the camera. He tripped and fell and the apparatus flew out of his hands. He recovered it and kept on to help out his friend.

      “Help me, Luther.”

      The glowing lights hadn’t reduced their attack; in fact, they had increased their determination. Desmond tried his best to fend them off.

      “Stay still, Desmond.”

      The glowing lights stopped their attack on Desmond and turned to Luther. Before he knew what to do, they raced at him with the fury of a tidal wave.

      Luther ran around in a giant circle screaming at the top of his


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