Charley

She decided to take the child to the local playground to see if she would talk to her there.

Walking up the grassy rise still the child followed on behind.

Marley sat down on a park bench a little distance from the play equipment and the baby girl climbed up and snuggled right beside her. Close up Marley could see just how pretty she was; long lashes, pale blue eyes, framed by caramel colored Shirley Temple curls.

She looked out across the park, the seat was on a small hill and the view of the trees and gardens was quite lovely.

It had grown quiet, strangely quiet for a public place - being the end of the day the usual patrons were now at home eating their dinners and preparing for bed.

Marley could see that she was holding a fluffy white rabbit in one hand and a small book in the other. No words came.

"Do you have a name?" she asked gently. The little girl nodded and then smiled. 

"Can you tell me what it is?"
The little girl shook her head "no".

"May I call you a name of my own then?"

The child moved up yet closer on the seat and put her chubby arms around Marley's neck.

"Charlene! Charley for short (rhymes with Marley she thought) ...how does that sound?"

The child clung tightly and Marley felt a wonderful warmth.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

Spirit Child

It had been a fine day earlier, when Marley had been shopping in the card store (the same stationers where she had bought her winning lottery ticket) - (or at least believed she had won it there) - and later went to purchase the store itself with some of the prize money she had received.

Today she was looking for a novelty card to give Puck. It was coming up to their anniversary of a whole year. She was browsing for something with whimsy that they could open together and share a laugh about.

As she stood in front of the card aisle trying to find the perfect sentiment, she reminisced over the times that he had been there for her when she had needed him.

It did not enter her head that he and her had differences at all - it seemed very natural, incredibly natural - almost second nature, for her to be with him.

And as she was standing there, seeing far past the cards with their powerful inscriptions inside, a small child, no older than three, ran up and wrapped her arms around her legs tightly.

She was a 'spirit' child (a ghost of some kind) yet dressed in modern clothing wearing a pink t-shirt with a fairy on the front, very small blue jeans and glittery sneakers with pink Velcro trims.

"She can't have been long gone" Marley first thought pityingly, looking down at the small figure still clutching her thighs.

Marley had grown used to seeing apparitions and otherworldly phenomena. Sharing her life with Puck had given her this vision, which was convenient because she could see now the folk that he would talk to, and he could no longer return to invisibility within the physical world and be unseen by her.

It was a little difficult at first - finding just how crowded every place truly is within the world - with characters of all kinds.

Yes, there had been diversity issues for her and not to mention the uglies that had faces so foul it took moments to get over them.

But once she had got past her own judgements and comparisons Marley found she could flip quite ordinarily from this world into the ethereal and just accept it for what it is. Not only could she see the folk there but now she could hold a conversation with them too.

Marley expected that the child would disappear out of there, for most human spirits very quickly come and go; but instead she followed her from the store into the hairstylist, and the cafe, the grocer, to the refuge where Marley dropped off a dozen bags of groceries - she even followed her into the bathroom in-between.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Bags of Beans

Oswald beamed.

He rummaged around in his grimy pocket and pulled out two teeth and a key. He handed over the key.

"You'll find them kept in the shed behind the Piggery. I've got no use for them myself but I will be requiring a reward."

"How so?"

"Well I'm letting them go and facilitating their release so to speak - could have gone elsewhere you know."

Puck looked hard at him and said, "All I've got on me is a bag of twelve beans - quick growing vines - but I guarantee you'll find a use for them for they can reach thirty feet in just under an hour."

"Make it two bags."

"Done! Two bags of six beans each. Just don't go feeding them to your enemies mind, or the Warden will be after you for murder."

"Fer sure" the Troll grumbled, "A shit that Warden is - got no jurisdiction over our kind."

"He does if you misbehave."

Puck turned the key in his hand watching it turn from gold to silver and back into gold again.

He looked up at the furry face still staring at him. "Thank you for your help Sir" he said respectfully. "I did not mean to be abrupt with you earlier. Good luck with your chances, choices and fare!"

The Troll bowed and disappeared.

That was a close one, Puck thought to himself - for moments there he had almost traded away his kindliness too.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Hood

"You do know what rhymes with Puck, don't you?" said the Troll, Oswald, rather smarmily.

"Truck?" glibly replied Puck, who was really over that joke and this Troll.

"Look here friend", the Troll began with an emphasis on the word 'friend', "you wouldn't just happen to be related to them Cappuccino mob by any chance of fate, now would you?"

"Do I look like a dwarf to you?" answered Puck a little curtly - he had desperately needed some silence to collect his thoughts in.

Oswald persisted, "what with your name being Hood and all ... I was only thinking...”

"That was a long time ago Oswald" Puck replied, and then added drily, "and besides, we all wore hoods back then - it was the fashion."

"Style still is today I say,” said the Troll triumphantly, as though he had knitted up the dialogue with reason.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

Books were Flying Everywhere

Books were flying everywhere: they came from out of the window above, two storeys up.

"None of these are worthy!" "There is no plot! No finery! No intrigue ... no answer! And the endings are crap!"

Ralph was perplexed, for his grandfather had adored his books and kept the largest library in the suburb.

Thousands of jackets over the years, ordered and catalogued - and now, he was trashing them in some kind of ecstasy of revelation?

The truth of it was that Alfonzo had been losing his sight - his blue eyes were turning to milk - and the books were no longer readable to him. He was fast losing his concentration and his thoughts were a jumble. The same phrases would keep repeating endlessly in his head, making comprehension impossible.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

Thought-booster from Paracelsus

"My energy is going - we have to get out of here", Brogan finally confided with some desperation.

Nervina had been trying on some armaments and had found a battle-suit that fitted him just perfectly; it had a great line and the trims went well with his hair.

The two were getting bored with the ever changing landscape they had lived in and had quite forgotten any purpose for being there, whilst at the same time something from home was calling them back.

It was actually someone from home who was calling them to return.

Puck had been given a thought-booster from Paracelsus that could enhance his broadcast when concentrating. It only worked in short bursts, but it was now sending an impulse strong enough to finally get through and stir reasoning in their minds.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Bonus Points!

Uplifting music piped melodically in the background, the meadow was spattered with flowering vines and hummingbirds. There was a small arched door hidden in this overrun garden ... it slowly opened.

Four times the size of the actual door came a naked Cyclops with a spear in his hand. He roared and rumbled terribly, stumbling onto the flowering bushes. He heaved his way to the spot where a group of very small children sat playing in the grass.

He speared each one of them through the heart and then peed on their tiny bodies.

"Bonus Points!" a voice called out excitedly.

Brogan peered back in through the door to see who was holding the controls this time. It was a young boy not more than ten years of age sitting beside either an older brother or very young father. They both looked very pleased with themselves. Life was "good".

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series