Weirder Than Weird Read online

  Glasses…remember those?”

  A few laughs and shouts came up from the group.

  “Remember how exciting it was for us young lads to have the ability to look right through a woman’s dress straight to her undergarments… and all for a mere buck twenty five!“

  They all laughed.

  “Of course… as you know, these items never did pan out as advertised, I speak with first-hand knowledge because I purchased just about every product ever displayed in those books at one time or another but I must say… one advertisement did finally deliver on its promise and I was sure at the time that it would make me very, very rich!

  “As it was, I placed an order for this particular product and was on pins and needles for the next few weeks as I eagerly awaited the arrival of my package. When it finally came I ran with it to the backyard, plopped down upon the ground and tore open the box. There inside, under a wad of newspaper, was a large envelope with the words “PUPPY SEEDS” marked in bold black letters. My heart jumped! Two weeks prior I had painstakingly prepared a small plot of soil in our back yard to receive these magical seeds, I carefully followed the instructions and, sure enough, within the next week or so I could see the sprouting of a most unusual type of plant. As they matured over the following days, each plant grew a thick rigid stalk and numerous pod- like structures poked out in all directions. Between school and my chores at home, I still managed to find time to lovingly nurse my plants to maturity and, to my great joy, it wasn’t long before they bore their promised fruit.

  “That night, I was asleep in my bedroom. It was very warm so I had the window open and at some point I heard a small squeak of a noise coming from outside my window. I immediately realized what it was and flew from the house with flashlight in hand. Sure enough, when I reached the garden, I could see a tiny figure squirming in the dark. With great joy I scooped a tiny puppy into my hand and heartily welcomed the little fellow into the world, but a second later I heard a slight thump as something hit the ground nearby which was simultaneously accompanied by a tiny yelp. I pointed my light in the direction of the sound and goodness me, wouldn’t you know, it was another puppy! I watched in amazement as a number of the pods slowly opened and invariably a little puppy would slide out and hit the ground causing a small yelp to erupt. I was overjoyed not only by the number being born in such a magical way but also by the variety the plants had to offer. There were Collies, Dobermans, Golden Retrievers, Saint Bernards, Basset Hounds, and just about every breed imaginable. As soon as one would blossom out, I would pick it up and place it in a pen that I had built just for the occasion.”

  “I was quite proud of the fact that I had planned every step in advance but it soon became obvious that the pen was inadequate to hold all of my little money makers since they arrived at such a hurried pace, so I hastily fashioned another pen out of old cinder blocks and chicken wire, but that too quickly filled to capacity. I was astonished by the prolific nature of the plants and it became clear that I would never be able to fully contain all of my little darlings. Our backyard was soon overwhelmed, then the front yard, then the sidewalk, and before I knew it, puppies were swarming over the entirety of our neighborhood in a cacophony of tiny squeaks and whimpers!

  “My neighbors were horrified by the never ending parade of puppies that encroached upon their perfectly manicured lawns and walkways and were so incensed that some of them threatened legal action against me if I didn’t put an end to this so called “Puppy Pollution.” I must admit that I was frightened stiff at the prospect of spending my promising youth in a jail cell. My parents were also on the verge of disowning me if I didn’t find some way to correct the situation… and fast!

  “I ran back to the box that the seeds had come in and pored over the instructions once again, hoping to glean some answer to my predicament but I discovered nothing useful. I was contemplating running away from home when just by chance I spotted another envelope taped to the inside of the box, with the words, ‘OPEN IN CASE OF EMERGENCY’ written on it. I quickly tore open the envelope and breathed a sigh of relief, for I was now holding a smaller envelope with the words, ‘DOG CATCHER SEEDS.’”

  The old man smiled and gave a salute as the other members roared with laughter. He took his seat as the bald gentleman stepped back up to the podium with a chuckle.

  “Thank you, William, for that most unusual tale… now, who will…” He stopped suddenly as he noticed an unfamiliar man in the back of the room stand and make his way towards the exit.

  “Ah… Sir… I don’t believe we have had the pleasure!” the bald man shouted. All the members craned their necks to see who he was addressing.

  The man in the trench coat and Fedora hat turned back in embarrassment with large jowls and a face full of sagging skin. “Oh…I must apologize,” he said. “I just caught sight of your banner on the far wall…you gentleman of course belong to the ‘TALL TALE SOCIETY.’ I must have gotten the wrong room. Somewhere in this building, according to my pamphlet here, is a lecture on Genetic Experimentation and I am to be one of its guest speakers… please forgive my intrusion.”

  He turned to leave but the man at the podium yelled out, “But Sir!… we always appreciate and welcome having guest speakers ourselves!”

  “Hear! Hear!” came a number of voices from the group.

  “Would you not like to share a tale with us before you leave?”

  At hearing this, the man threw his head back and howled with laughter. “Sir, if you only knew the absolute irony behind what you have just said!” At that moment, the pamphlet dropped from the man’s hand and he bent over to pick it up, but as he did his hat fell off and two long floppy ears came tumbling down around his face and a stiff fuzzy white tail sprang freely from the back of his coat.

  There was an audible gasp from the group and a moment later, a gavel was pounding out order once again. “Now then…” said the bald man, turning back towards the group. “Anyone care to top that?”

  TELL A TALE TAVERN

  Deep in the forest of Greyshire, a dark and forlorn figure could be seen wandering its long forgotten road in search of shelter. The gloom of night descended quickly and with it a shroud of mist layered the trees and roadway like a gathering of spirits. Yet up ahead, peeking out from behind a small copse of trees, a pale yellow light seemed to beckon the traveler, a most welcomed sight considering his present circumstance. As he moved closer, he could see more clearly the outline of a large log cabin and upon arrival a great wooden sign hung prominently from the top of its doorway, it read “TELL A TALE TAVERN & INN.” The words seemed to be freshly painted and covering up a different name underneath but he couldn’t quite discern exactly what it was because of the poor lighting. An uneasiness crept over him as he stepped to one side and peered through the window.

  A fireplace was brightly ablaze on the far end of the room and a few tattered deer heads hung from its darkened walls. There were also a number of roughly hewn wooden tables and chairs dotting its inside but not much more could be seen from the window. “Such a dismal décor,” he thought to himself as he started to make his way inside. He wrenched the rusty door handle with great effort and the heavy wooden door slowly swung open with a moanful creak. Aside from the crackling of the fire, the room was deathly quiet and void of any presence. His eyes scanned the interior. A row of vintage oil lamps hung from a grey wooden beam that ran down the center of the room and to his left was a large slab of gnarled and unfinished wood sitting upon notched logs. Behind this he saw shelves filled with sand colored bottles, all corked and of myriad shapes and sizes. On one side of the counter rested a wooden ladder that rose to a darkened loft and on the other, a door to an unseen room.

  Despite the odd surroundings he was certainly thankful to be out of the cold. He turned to close the door and as he turned again, a figure now stood before him. This sudden appearance startled him and he fell back against the door with a gasp.

  “Oh my! Beggin’ your pardon stranger, I didn’t
mean to frighten you so!”

  Before him stood a plump old fellow whose slack face looked to be fully drained of color. “I’m the barkeep here, Old Tom they call me,” he wiped his hand across a stained apron and held it out in common gesture. The man instinctively took hold but a stingy cold instantly penetrated his flesh and coursed quickly to the bone.

  The old man gave him a wink. “Now you just shake off that chill over there by the fire and old Tom’ll get you some grub right away… they’ll be plenty of time for story tellin!” He then turned and disappeared behind the counter door.

  Still a bit shaken, the man rubbed his hands and walked over to the fire. Within a few minutes the old man returned, carrying a large wooden platter filled with small loves of fresh bread, slabs of cheese and two large steins of beer. He sat the platter down upon the table and gestured for the man to have a seat.

  “Now then, stranger, why is such a man as yourself out on a night like this?” the old man asked, eyeing him from top to bottom. “We certainly don’t get many borders these days.”

  “Well, it just so happens that I got lost somehow,” the man replied. “You see, I’ve been surveying these parts for about a week now and I must have gotten confused, I mean, it’s the damnedest thing, one minute I’m standing on a hill just taking notes when, for some inexplicable reason, I look up and everything was … mmm… different!”

  “Different you say?”

  “Why yes, I know that it sounds crazy but all my surroundings were changed somehow. Come to think of it, I remember seeing a very odd flash of light out the corner of my eye, then as I say, everything was different. For the life of me I can’t fathom how it all happened but I found myself walking on a dirt road for what seemed hours looking for my car.” He paused. “Now that I think of it, I did come across a man on horseback but when I yelled out to him he wouldn’t even look in my direction, which I thought very peculiar.”

  There was a knowing glint in the eye of the old man but he remained silent, his face only gesturing in a feign mask of sympathy. Realizing how parched he had become, the man fully drained his drink in one long breath and wiped his sleeve across his face.

  “Thank God I finally saw your light, barkeep!”

  “Yes, the good Lord be praised alright, but don’t you worry none lad, you’re in good hands now; this is the best Inn this side of Barstone and after a good night’s rest I’m sure that…ah… that thing of yours will turn up.”

  “My car you mean?”

  “Yes, yes that’s it!”

  The moment was interrupted by the sound of a hatchet striking down hard at the opposite end of the room and a momentary flutter of white filled the air then became motionless. Startled, the stranger jumped in his seat. On one end of the counter stood an elderly man of diminutive stature and as thin as a stalk of grain. He was holding a hatchet in one hand and a freshly decapitated chicken in the other. The blood oozed over the counter and dripped steadily to the floor below.

  The old man gave a look of exasperation then turned to the stranger. “Beggin’ your pardon, Sir, ol’ Pete over there has never been one for manners, what say I get us a few more drafts and I’ll have a bit of word with him.”

  “How strange all this is!” the man thought to himself as he looked around the room, from the rustic interior to the food that was served him, and there was also the archaic manner of dress the two men sported, especially the barkeep who wore a shirt with a thick ruffled collar that was buttoned high to the jaw line. “That has to be terribly uncomfortable!” he thought, but of course everything appeared peculiar and out of place.

  Within a few minutes, the barkeep returned to the table with two more drinks. The man pulled out his wallet from his coat pocket and inspected its contents. “I should ask if you accept credit cards, I hope you understand that I wasn’t expecting all this to happen to me so I’m a little short on cash but I do think that I have a gold card here somewhere.”

  The old man looked perplexed at the question but the light of understanding soon swept over him, “Oh no… no Sir! We have no use for your gold or silver!” He laughed out loud. “What we want from you is a good tale!”

  The stranger gave a befuddled look. “A good tale you say? I don’t understand.”

  “It’s like this,” said the old man. “Unfortunately we don’t get many visitors these days and me and ol’ Pete just love to hear a good frightening tale, the scarier the better. Of course, the story must be based in truth or else it loses its flavor… if you get my meanin’ Sir. So what say you, stranger… got a good tale for us?” The fat bartender leaned in with childlike enthusiasm as did old Pete who swept his way closer for a better hear.

  The man thought the request quite insane but he was contentedly warm once again and quite relaxed as a result of a strong fire and an even stronger drink. He looked at the two morbid figures with curiosity, a loneliness exuded from them both and the better part of him relented, he would give them what they wanted.

  “A tale you say, based in fact nonetheless.”

  “Yes! Yes! And scary!” added the barkeep.

  “Well, it seems to me that I do recall something that happened to me when I was a boy that quite frankly I cannot explain, even to this day. I was probably just nine years old at the time. My family lived in a modest house at the end of a winding gravel road and my maternal grandparents lived close by in an old two story vine draped home. Every day I would have to pass by their house on my way to school which always caused me great anxiety, for the house itself was frightening enough because of a dark aura that seemed to be imposed there but more importantly, I was deathly afraid of my grandmother. I had many a dream where I would see her staring at me from the second floor window as I passed by, a solitary figure with no movement or smile, just and evil stare attempting it seemed to destroy a small boy’s sanity. I would often redirect my route across a nearby gully that was rife with snakes and other creeping nasties just to avoid passing by that interminable nightmare of a house.

  “My grandfather was a rotund and jolly sort of fellow. I remember him as being great fun to be around but as for my grandmother, truth be told, she always reminded me of a living spook! She elicited in me a fear that I could never come to terms with. She was a woman of small stature and conservative dress with long hoary hair that was always pinned up tight in the back. My grandfather and her were complete opposites, he was an outgoing and boisterous type of fellow but she was very quiet and sullen. Come to think of it, I don’t even recall what her voice sounded like, perhaps that added to the frightening mystique of the woman.

  “But there was one feature of hers above all else that to this day sends a chill down my spine when I think of it…. her eyes! Dark and penetrating were those eyes of hers; they could look right through your very soul and lay all your hidden secrets bare to the world. I came to believe that they were two spheres of evil, originally intended to be bestowed upon an unworldly form, a sinister form, not that of an old woman. I have seen pictures of her in her youth and her eyes were soft and gentle, gleaming the brightest of blue, but somewhere, somehow, they had changed. The light in them was now gone and her maddening glare would continue to haunt my dreams even after they were extinguished forever!

  “As it happened, the old woman was diagnosed with cancer and passed away not long after. A great relief came upon me which I was sensible enough to keep to myself. During her short battle with the disease I found excuse not to visit her in the hospital and when she finally died I was overjoyed in thinking that my troubles were now over. Despite my previous manipulations, my mother made certain that I did not squirm out of attending the funeral and before we left for the funeral home that dreary morning both me and my little sister were instructed to bring along a personal keepsake that would be placed in the casket with my grandmother for all eternity. I remember the old woman lying on display in her wooden chamber with a delicate repose as if she was only lost in a deep slumber, soon to awaken at any moment to resume my n
ightmare. But that of course was pure nonsense, anyone could plainly see that the old broad was stone cold dead!”

  “With my mother holding her hand, my little sister bravely placed a small stuffed bear in the casket as tears trickled down her cheeks. My mother gave me a sympathetic look then they both exited the viewing parlor. I was now all alone with the old woman. I nervously pulled a small bible from my coat pocket. Earlier that morning I scribbled a message on the inside cover that was childishly disrespectful in hindsight but was certainly the way I felt at the time. It read, ‘I‘m so glad you‘re dead! Stay that way old woman!’

  “I tossed it into the coffin and was about to turn when I noticed something odd. I took a small step closer and stared at her cold lifeless face. “Could it be?“ I thought to myself. “yes!“ A chill ran through me as I discerned that her eyelids were only partially closed, there was a small sliver of darkness peeking out from behind them! I was frozen, unable to move or avert my stare. I looked on with horror as I perceived the slightest lifting of the lids as if they were struggling against a great weight. Slowly, very slowly they endeavored to open so that I could glimpse into the dark portals of hell itself! Yes, they were opening, I was certain of it now! My terror was at its peak when suddenly I heard my mother calling out my name which broke the terrifying spell and I ran from the room never to speak of what occurred that day.

  “My anxiety lessened as the years passed, as did my nightmares. My grandfather died soon after his wife and their old house remained vacant and unused for years. The shroud of green vine eventually enveloped the entirety of its rotting structure as if attempting to hide its sinister secrets from the rest of the world. After many years, the house was finally scheduled for demolition and I decided to pay it one last visit. My grandfather had always been a voracious reader and over many years he had garnered a huge collection of books that I hoped still remained in the house, I was determined to pick through them to find any treasures there might be.