He was curious of the strange little creature illuminating a light from within the bulb. It seemed strangely familiar but why? Had he seen it before? Yes, that's it, he had seen it but where? He had been many places during his years serving as a missionary. Was it a puppet show he had watched while in Albania? No. Possibly during a journey to the hills of Bulgaria when on summer break from seminary? No. He searched the fragments of his mind but nothing. Wait, he recalled an odd incident while gazing out his bedroom window one late, lazy day many years ago. A silver craft had emerged from the clouds and landed in a field across the way. Out of the craft stepped two creatures; one wearing an orange jump suit and on his head what appeared to be a fish bowl. The other was smaller and emitted a greenish tint. He had long since dismissed the incident as the over imaginations of a young boy... but had it been real? Things were beginning to fit together now. The sighting had been real and this creature in the bulb was the greenish creature exiting the craft! He was so overjoyed, he leaped with excitement, a slipper failing to the floor. He had discovered it was the visit of the orange and green creatures and a word painted on the side of the once imaginary craft, Calvinistic, that had drawn him to the writings of John Calvin and ultimately a life a serving his Lord and Savior.
The name's Dan - Dan Thomas Caleb Tanner Ives. Yeah, it's long, and yeah, it's punny, but I have relatives named that, and my parents like a good pun. But, hey, I did end up as a detective.
I'm your average kinda guy. 6' 7", trained in hand-to-hand combat, adept at firearms, that kind of stuff. Oh, and I happen to be mighty fine and sleuthing. At least on paper.
So the hours are 3:30 P.M., it's overcast, I'm sleepy, I want to play a flash game or watch some Paul Washer or something. But I've got a case to solve. My first case. My client is Captain R. Minihan, a retired Marine. I'm on his doorstep, and I'm hungry - even something light, such as five (healthy) burgers, would do. But it's time for business, not food. Or both would be good.
Rap! Rap! Rap! I pound on the massive doors of his gargantun mansion, admiring the estate in all its glory. I wouldn't mind owning a place kinda like this someday, Lord willing.
Shoop! A little door in the door I had just smacked my fist against slides open, a thick wood and metal combo, a man's face, a butler, behind thick glass.
Security - a guy after my own heart!
"Ah, Mister Ives, I presume?" the early thirties looking man inquires, lacking a foreign accent.
"That's me," I reply, smiling, flashing my badge.
"One moment, please."
The door swings open a moment later, letting me into the miniature American castle. I nod appreciatively to the butler as I step in, instantly struck by the amazing interior.
"Thank you," I tell him, taking off my hat. "Man, this place is kept in great shape."
"Me and my men try, Mister Ives. The Captain will be with you..."
"Ah, Blaine, and Mister Ives!" the cheery elderly fellow, still clearly in splendid health, bellows happily as he enters the room, sharply dressed in khakis and a suit. "So good to see you, Detective Ives."
"Howdy," I greet, grinning. "So what can I do for you?"
"Well, I'm missing a tie...And my wife is missing a slipper. We need your help to find them, Ives!"
"Uh, well, I'll do my best," I chuckle in disbelief. "Alright, so let's start with the oldest question in the book: where do you last remember having these items?"
"Somewhere in this room," Minihan responds, waving his hand around the massive living room.
OK, I see why I was called in now.
"We were reading in here late at night, and my wife went to go call a friend. Her slippers were right in front of her at the couch. As for my tie, it was still on me, as I had come home very late from work."
"Alrightski, well, sir, I say we look right over there."
"Oh, yes, splendid idea!"
"Sir, do you need me for anything else?" Blaine questions, clearing his throat.
"Oh, no, no, Blaine, your're free to go," Minihan informs him.
Bowing, the kindly butler exits the area.
"Alright, so, last place, well, over there, with the bookshelves and the couches."
"OK," I reply, smiling weakly. "Let's take a look-see and..."
I gasp. "Is that a Paul Washer book on the floor under those blankets?!"
"Oh, um, yes, yes it is," the Captain answers as I bend down to grab it.
"Uh, sir," I begin as I move aside the articles, "is this your tie, and is that your wife's slipper?"
"Yes it is!" the veteran exclaims. "How did...that..." He snaps his fingers. "I remember now. I tossed the slipper, tie, and blankets at the book after tossing it on the floor."
"You tossed a book on the floor...?"
"...Yes, so I did."
"Alrighty then. Well, there's your stuff, sir."
"Thank you! By the way, you wouldn't be a Calvinist, would you?"
"I am, but I'm a rogue one."
"Haha! That's funny. But...Hmm. Maybe Calvinists aren't all bad...I have seen some fragments here and there from them that are pretty good..."
"Perhaps you should give his book another try," I suggest, laying it down on a table in front of a couch.
He was curious of the strange little creature illuminating a light from within the bulb. It seemed strangely familiar but why? Had he seen it before? Yes, that's it, he had seen it but where? He had been many places during his years serving as a missionary. Was it a puppet show he had watched while in Albania? No. Possibly during a journey to the hills of Bulgaria when on summer break from seminary? No. He searched the fragments of his mind but nothing. Wait, he recalled an odd incident while gazing out his bedroom window one late, lazy day many years ago. A silver craft had emerged from the clouds and landed in a field across the way. Out of the craft stepped two creatures; one wearing an orange jump suit and on his head what appeared to be a fish bowl. The other was smaller and emitted a greenish tint. He had long since dismissed the incident as the over imaginations of a young boy... but had it been real? Things were beginning to fit together now. The sighting had been real and this creature in the bulb was the greenish creature exiting the craft! He was so overjoyed, he leaped with excitement, a slipper failing to the floor. He had discovered it was the visit of the orange and green creatures and a word painted on the side of the once imaginary craft, Calvinistic, that had drawn him to the writings of John Calvin and ultimately a life a serving his Lord and Savior.
ReplyDeleteWhat can I say? I like it...I like it!
Delete(Part one due to length)
ReplyDeleteMy First Case
The name's Dan - Dan Thomas Caleb Tanner Ives. Yeah, it's long, and yeah, it's punny, but I have relatives named that, and my parents like a good pun. But, hey, I did end up as a detective.
I'm your average kinda guy. 6' 7", trained in hand-to-hand combat, adept at firearms, that kind of stuff. Oh, and I happen to be mighty fine and sleuthing. At least on paper.
So the hours are 3:30 P.M., it's overcast, I'm sleepy, I want to play a flash game or watch some Paul Washer or something. But I've got a case to solve. My first case. My client is Captain R. Minihan, a retired Marine. I'm on his doorstep, and I'm hungry - even something light, such as five (healthy) burgers, would do. But it's time for business, not food. Or both would be good.
Rap! Rap! Rap! I pound on the massive doors of his gargantun mansion, admiring the estate in all its glory. I wouldn't mind owning a place kinda like this someday, Lord willing.
Shoop! A little door in the door I had just smacked my fist against slides open, a thick wood and metal combo, a man's face, a butler, behind thick glass.
Security - a guy after my own heart!
"Ah, Mister Ives, I presume?" the early thirties looking man inquires, lacking a foreign accent.
"That's me," I reply, smiling, flashing my badge.
"One moment, please."
The door swings open a moment later, letting me into the miniature American castle. I nod appreciatively to the butler as I step in, instantly struck by the amazing interior.
"Thank you," I tell him, taking off my hat. "Man, this place is kept in great shape."
"Me and my men try, Mister Ives. The Captain will be with you..."
"Ah, Blaine, and Mister Ives!" the cheery elderly fellow, still clearly in splendid health, bellows happily as he enters the room, sharply dressed in khakis and a suit. "So good to see you, Detective Ives."
"Howdy," I greet, grinning. "So what can I do for you?"
"Well, I'm missing a tie...And my wife is missing a slipper. We need your help to find them, Ives!"
Man, this case will look great on my resume.
(Part two)
ReplyDelete"Uh, well, I'll do my best," I chuckle in disbelief. "Alright, so let's start with the oldest question in the book: where do you last remember having these items?"
"Somewhere in this room," Minihan responds, waving his hand around the massive living room.
OK, I see why I was called in now.
"We were reading in here late at night, and my wife went to go call a friend. Her slippers were right in front of her at the couch. As for my tie, it was still on me, as I had come home very late from work."
"Alrightski, well, sir, I say we look right over there."
"Oh, yes, splendid idea!"
"Sir, do you need me for anything else?" Blaine questions, clearing his throat.
"Oh, no, no, Blaine, your're free to go," Minihan informs him.
Bowing, the kindly butler exits the area.
"Alright, so, last place, well, over there, with the bookshelves and the couches."
"OK," I reply, smiling weakly. "Let's take a look-see and..."
I gasp. "Is that a Paul Washer book on the floor under those blankets?!"
"Oh, um, yes, yes it is," the Captain answers as I bend down to grab it.
"Uh, sir," I begin as I move aside the articles, "is this your tie, and is that your wife's slipper?"
"Yes it is!" the veteran exclaims. "How did...that..." He snaps his fingers. "I remember now. I tossed the slipper, tie, and blankets at the book after tossing it on the floor."
"You tossed a book on the floor...?"
"...Yes, so I did."
"Alrighty then. Well, there's your stuff, sir."
"Thank you! By the way, you wouldn't be a Calvinist, would you?"
"I am, but I'm a rogue one."
"Haha! That's funny. But...Hmm. Maybe Calvinists aren't all bad...I have seen some fragments here and there from them that are pretty good..."
"Perhaps you should give his book another try," I suggest, laying it down on a table in front of a couch.
"Not a bad idea, son. Not a bad idea at all."
Or something. It may have just been acting up, or I accidentally did something wrong...Strange. Ah well.
ReplyDelete