Send in the Clowns Part 3- The Ether Speaks
A Monica Minors investigation
Stories are containers for energy.
Magic is the manipulation of stories.
I'm sitting here in a crummy motel in Atlanta.
I slept for a while.
Derek went home to his husband.
Now it was early afternoon and I needed to be alone.
I needed to empty myself of stories.
I practiced an old Karate kata, the first Pinan.
I had become the kata. I didn't have to remember it anymore.
I moved around the crummy little room with my eyes closed breathing into my belly.
My vital energy blazed.
I slowed it down.
Became timeless.
I then became the room. The space inside was me.
Then I was spaceless
My body kept moving and I popped out of my body.
I was in the ethereal plane.
My body stopped and settled into a lotus position.
In the ethereal plane there is no time and no space.
No power. No strength.
There is only presence and awareness.
I moved my awareness to the cursed USB drive.
The innocuous little thumb drive that had killed poor Rachel.
I moved past Rachel.
I moved to the drive itself.
“You who made this, come forth.” I spoke into the void that contains all beings.
He was there. The Man With The Camera.
“What's your name?” I asked him.
“Mark Pilton.” He answered in the somnolent sepulchral tone that most people have in the ethereal plane.
That meant he wouldn't remember our conversation here.
“Why do you kill them Mark?” I asked him.
Weeping sounds.
Tiredness.
Echoes.
“I have to get 23 of them. 23 at 23. The thing in the woods says I can have Sami back if I get 23. Done 8. Need 23.” Mark said.
“Who is in the woods?”
“The clowns live in the woods. Sami is in their house. Still alive. Saw her. Had to do the ritual they said to do. Only one clown talks. Jenkins. The thing in the woods.”
Mark droned on weeping ethereal tears.
I got Mark’s address from him. After I promised I would save Sami.
I dismissed Mark. I called out to his Sami.
Sami was there. A young woman. Healthy. Strong. She was frozen. Trapped in a dream realm.
Then I saw the clowns.
“I don't know you.” A seductive flirtatious voice. This one could see me.
“Jenkins, I presume?” I said with great politeness.
Politeness is the best strategy.
His form became clear in the ethereal mists.
A tall thin man with greasepaint makeup and a colorful cartoonish suit that hung on his elongated carcass.
He sniffed. “A human. It's been a long time since I met a human who could do this trick. What's your name?”
I knew better than to give this thing my name.
“No one of consequence.” I answered.
Jenkins looked at me, annoyed. “You know what you're doing. That's decidedly inconvenient.”
“Release the girl and I will spare you.” I said.
Jenkins laughed. “Do you think you can stop me with your little tricks? You can see me. You know the rules reasonably well. But what could you, a human possibly do to me?”
I told him the truth. “Stop what you're doing, release the girl. Or else I will kill the very story of you.”
Jenkins stopped laughing. He vanished into the ether. And I let him.
Names have power. With a name? I can find you anywhere.
Stories are containers for energy.
Magic is the manipulation of stories.
I'm sitting here in a crummy motel in Atlanta.
I slept for a while.
Derek went home to his husband.
Now it was early afternoon and I needed to be alone.
I needed to empty myself of stories.
I practiced an old Karate kata, Pinan One.
I had become the kata. I didn't have to remember it anymore.
I moved around the crummy little room with my eyes closed breathing into my belly.
My vital energy blazed.
I slowed it down.
Became timeless.
I then became the room. The space inside was me.
Then I was spaceless
My body kept moving and I popped out of my body.
I was in the ethereal plane.
My body stopped and settled into a lotus position.
In the ethereal plane there is no time and no space.
No power. No strength.
There is only presence and awareness.
I moved my awareness to the cursed USB drive.
The innocuous little thumb drive that had killed poor Rachel.
I moved past Rachel.
I moved to the drive itself.
“You who made this, come forth.” I spoke into the void that contains all beings.
He was there. The Man With The Camera.
“What's your name?” I asked him.
“Mark Pilton.” He answered in the somnolent sepulchral tone that most people have in the ethereal plane.
That meant he wouldn't remember our conversation here.
“Why do you kill them Mark?” I asked him.
Weeping sounds.
Tiredness.
Echoes.
“I have to get 23 of them. 23 at 23. The thing in the woods says I can have Sami back if I get 23. Done 8. Need 23.” Mark said.
“Who is in the woods?”
“The clowns live in the woods. Sami is in their house. Still alive. Saw her. Had to do the ritual they said to do. Only one clown talks. Jenkins. The thing in the woods.”
Mark droned on weeping ethereal tears.
I got Mark’s address from him. After I promised I would save Sami.
I dismissed Mark. I called out to his Sami.
Sami was there. A young woman. Healthy. Strong. She was frozen. Trapped in a dream realm.
Then I saw the clowns.
“I don't know you.” A seductive flirtatious voice. This one could see me.
“Jenkins, I presume?” I said with great politeness.
Politeness is the best strategy.
His form became clear in the ethereal mists.
A tall thin man with greasepaint makeup and a colorful cartoonish suit that hung on his elongated carcass.
He sniffed. “A human. It's been a long time since I met a human who could do this trick. What's your name?”
I knew better than to give this thing my name.
“No one of consequence.” I answered.
Jenkins looked at me, annoyed. “You know what you're doing. That's decidedly inconvenient.”
“Release the girl and I will spare you.” I said.
Jenkins laughed. “Do you think you can stop me with your little tricks? You can see me. You know the rules reasonably well. But what could you, a human possibly do to me?”
I told him the truth. “Stop what you're doing, release the girl. Or else I will kill the very story of you.”
Jenkins stopped laughing. He vanished into the ether. And I let him.
Names have power. With a name? I can find you anywhere.
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