Mr. Fish & Other Fantasy Tales. David Ph.D Dicaire
the man’s name.
“My name is Private Alfred Sanderson.”
“Uncle Alfred.”
“I’m not your uncle boy. But thanks for thinking that way.
Suddenly, a German soldier jumped in the foxhole and Eric scrambled for his gun.
6
Eric woke up with a scream ready to explode from his lips. It took a few seconds before he realized that he was at home safe and sound in his warm, cozy bed. Suddenly, he felt the tears stream down his cheeks and wiped them.
“I’m so sorry.”
He sat up and watched the moon cross the night sky for a few minutes before he went to the computer.
The next morning, he was still typing furiously on the keyboard barely able to keep up with his thoughts. Suddenly, he felt an itch on his left leg. He looked down and noticed a scar that had never been there before.
He stared at the dark, overcast sky for a second and then resumed typing.
Green Dreams
Mike Belmont stood on the eighteenth hole with no chance of winning the tournament. In fact, he was in dead last place. However, there was a short seven-foot putt and making it would give him a par and salvage a very bad day. He lined up the shot and the ball rolled toward the hole, hit the corner of the cup and squirted left. He slugged over – defeated – and sunk it.
“I see you played your usual spectacular game.” J. R. Lockton smiled at Mike. He was a large, individual who wore loud colorful shirts that hurt the eyes.
“Nobody asked you.”
“Nobody has to. I guess I’ll go pick up my winning check. Why don’t you just give up and quit embarrassing yourself?”
“Shove it.”
Mike grabbed his clubs and left.
2
Mike arrived home and plucked the golf clubs from the trunk of his car. He turned around and Evelyn was waiting for him.
“Mike, where have you been?”
“We had a late start.”
“You are the most selfish person.”
“Evelyn don’t start on me now. I’ve had a really bad day on the course.”
“Oh, I see. So you had a crappy day while I was trying to make sure that our son had a good birthday and I should just leave you alone?
Mike walked into the house without saying a word.
Keith Belmont, an eight-year old handsome boy, sat alone at a chair looking very sad. The birthday banner sagged, most of the streamers had fallen down and one lone balloon touched the ceiling like it was trying to escape. There were only a few crumbs left on the cake platter.
“Hey, how’s my birthday boy?”
“Dad where were you?”
“Everyone is gone home. The party was over two hours ago.” Evelyn stood a few feet from Mike.
“Well the party isn’t over until I say it’s over.”
Mike picked up a party hat and put it on. He danced around and looked rather foolish. Keith didn’t say anything and just slumped away.
“Ray called. He says that you were supposed to work today and that you blew it off to play in that tournament.”
“I had booked the day off three weeks ago. I’ll smooth things out on Monday.”
“Don’t bother. He fired you. I hope your golf game was worth it.”
She stormed out of the room.
3
Mike sat on the edge of the grass overlooking the empty field that stretched before him as far as the eye could see. He looked at the point where the top of the trees touched the emerging sun like two lovers holding hands.
He squinted at the setting sun and decided to hit a few balls. He stood up and planted a tee into the ground and then placed his ‘lucky’ ball on it. He swung and watched the ball shoot off like a rocket before it started to hook and landed in a small patch of trees.
“Damn it.” He dropped the club and trudged over to find the ball. He picked up an errant tree branch to separate the tall weeds that served as a necklace around the small woods. With the stick he slowly and meticulously poked around for the ‘lucky’ ball.
Suddenly, he heard a voice. “Be gone with you vile creature.”
Mike peeked over a log and couldn’t believe his eyes. A small figure, about two feet tall with a red beard, black beady eyes and rather large nose was fighting off a squirrel with a cane. Suddenly, it disappeared and showed up behind the squirrel and whacked the animal a good one.
The squirrel made a very strange noise and fled.“Aye, that was a good shot.”
Mike burst forth. “Hey, what are you?”
The figure disappeared again only to reappear behind Mike and smack him a good one on the back of the leg.
‘Ouch, you little gremlin.” Mike turned around but the figure had disappeared again.
There was a strange, almost diabolical laughter. The little man appeared on a tree branch and let go of it smacking Mike right in the back of the head knocking him to the ground.
“That’ll teach you to invade my home.”
Mike got back up and twisted around looking for the fiend.
“I’m over here. No, I’m over there.”
Mike swung the tree branch around trying to hit the little fellow when his cell phone rang.
“Great.” Mike stopped and picked up his cell phone. “Hello? I’ll be home in about ten minutes. I’m really sorry, honey.” Mike turned around and the little fellow was looking at the cell phone with an intense gaze.
Mike took a picture and the little creature went absolutely crazy.
“What did you do?” He jumped up and down furiously.
“Gotcha ya.” Mike grabbed the little fellow by his legs and hung him upside down.
“Let go.”
“Okay, what and who are you?”
“Let go.”
“First you answer my questions.”
“I’m a brownie. Beezer MacLeary at your service.” He tipped his hat and smiled.
“What’s a brownie?”
“Agh, laddie don’t you know anything? What brings you to my woods?”
“I was out hitting golf balls and my ‘lucky’ ball landed in here.”
“Lucky ball? No such thing as luck in golf. Tis’ a game of skill and patience.”
“What do you know about golf?”
“My people invented it.”
“Oh. How can you make yourself disappear and reappear?”
“Agh, you ask a lot of questions. We brownies can do that. Now let go and give me back my soul.”
“On one condition. You help me win a golf tournament.”
“How?”
“With your ability to disappear you can guide my ball.”
“Ah, that’s cheating.”
“If you don’t, I won’t give you your soul back.”
The