FROM THE DESK OF
TATTLE, ESQ. PENZA
ASSOCIATE WRYE BALDERDASH
Tattle popped into the office bursting with enthusiasm. "It's all about BURST this month!"
"Huh?" Wrye had been dozing with his head on the ornate desk. He popped up quickly, blinking the sleep from his eyes.
"CBG's Science Fiction/Fantasy/young adult etc. line of books, under the BURST insignia. We are traveling into the unknown, the different, the strange, and the alternate of where we have been."
"I repeat, huh?" With a dazed look, he fumbled with his monthly itinerary to see where the next jump would lead.
"Oh, just come on, it is time for our Love of Literature Leap. Ready?"
"I guess as much as I'll ever be."
"I feel queasy." Tattle held her stomach and made a swaying motion as she looked around. "Are we on a ship?"
"The Queen Mary." Wrye's attire transformed into that of a seaman from a different era. "Beautiful, isn't she?"
"Ah, we're in the Science Fiction/Time Travel novel THE TRAVELERS by KEITH WAYNE MCCOY, and I do believe we are in 1947!" Swallowing several times to keep her stomach from an upheaval, Tattle pointed. "Look there's the radio room, a key component to this story."
"A message was sent and the stage set for an encounter between a GI and his war bride, as well as a frantic mother and her young children." Wrye's bushy brows wiggled as if they were bouncing to a tune. "Ahhh, but no one suspects ET captured the message."
Tattle held on to the railing, swearing silently that the ship is bobbing faster than Wrye's eyebrows." "ET as in the little guy and the candy?" Remembering the candy in her own pocket, she popped one into her mouth, certain it would help.
"Nooo, as in extraterrestrial intelligence."
"Duh, that's what ET stands for..." Tattle excused herself for burping, believing candy wasn't such a good idea, after all. Thankfully, they suddenly leaped out of the past and appeared nearly on top of Guy Turner. “I believe this filmmaker is on a phone interview.” Tattle sighed in relief, and eavesdropped. "Oh me, oh my oh, that message we were just talking about from 1947..."
"Way ahead of ya, m'Candy Munchin' sleuth, the message from the Queen Mary from so long ago has just been received in the present day." Invisible to Guy, Wrye leaned closer to the man so as to hear both sides of the conversation. "He's making a documentary about the ship. He wants to know what Julie knows about this message."
Tattle practically pressed her face to Guy's. "Shhh, I'm listening. Julie tells him it's a hoax."
"It's not! And he's calling her on it, revealing he knows about the seventy times the Leviathan received the message."
"Ut oh," Tattle blurted out as their surroundings changed once more. "Where are we now?"
"On the retired Queen Mary, standing in the middle of a supernatural phenomena with Guy and the mother of those young children.
"She is not so young. Neither is the GI and his war bride."
"And Guy has been propelled on an undesired journey into his own awareness as well as helping the three beings come together one more time, trying to help tie together all that should have been."
"Speaking of time.... We’re out of it, let's leap!"
Taking it, she examined the battered orb. This is very old, I mean like beyond ancient old. That’s the goddess of hunting, Artemis.” She pointed to one side and then turned it. “And a bull is on this side.”
“Like you really know that, are you bullin’ me?” Wrye grinned crookedly, thinking himself funny.
“I bull you not. I am that smart.”
He pulled the skeptical look. “Are you? Or did you just flip through a couple of pages of THE LAST ANCIENT by ELIOT BAKER?”
“Guilty.” She tossed the coin up in the air, caught it, and covered it with one hand. “Goddess or bull?”
“Enough with the coin, m’gossipy snoop,” Wrye snatched it away and tossed it back to where he had discovered it. “Instead, let us spy on Simon Stephenson, a Pulitzer-nominated reporter.”
Tattle slipped into the pages and nosed about. “Ah, Simon has been told by a cryptic alchemist and bang-bang, you’re dead affable Greek hit man that he must kill a mythological creature.”
“A hit man?”
Wrye joined Tattle on the same page. “The hit man is a nice guy?”
“Rhetorical, I assume, Watson.”
“If anyone is Holmes, I am. For….” Wrye does a lavish, exaggerated pause seen only in the most corny mystery movies of old. “I know that Simon’s family has dark secrets, and that a trail of ancient coins leads him to a fiendish conspiracy, toxic beasts, foul characters, and everything and anything of the twisty antiquated world of not so nice entities, human and not so human.” He had let it all out in one breath and now inhaled a deep gulp of air and offered a ta-da flash of teeth with an extravagant bow.
“Ah, but did you know the creature is hunting on
“Not at all! He’s in love.”
“Love? With who?”
“The creature who told him no-no to the story, and asked him for something only he can give her.”
“What! And what?”
After whispering to Wrye, Tattle then winked at the CBG audience. “Y’all have to read to find out.”
Hope you enjoyed our BURST only Love of Literature Leap. Til next month, keep reading!
Rutabaga Tattle, Esq. Penza
and Associate Wrye Balderdash
, Wannachat Blather
Created and written by
Angelica Hart and Zi
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