Explaining Pandas Part 2

[And now we find out just what in the world is going on! Hooray! :D ]

"So let me get this straight." Seamus was massaging his temples as he sat and absorbed all that he was hearing. "There's a magic garden that can think and talk. There's a witch lady, Magda-your wife- who lives there and teaches little girls magic. Then there are giant animals that represent other realms of the world, and they all meet a couple times a year to have a big 'ole party where they give a little girl her name?"
Merle dipped his head in acknowledgement. The coffee had long been finished, and the moon now starting to sink back in the sky. It had been a long couple of days, and now the older man was ready to turn in.
"That's exactly right, son. Might take a few days for it to sink in. Mark my word, once we start with your lessons you'll realize this is the tame end of the horse." Joints popped and creaked as he scraped his chair back and stood up to stretch. "Now that you know a little more about what we do around here, I'm going to bed. Some of us didn't sleep so good recently." He gave the boy a gentle stink-eye making Seamus grin sheepishly.
"Yeah, sleep sounds good to me too. I promise I won't try to sleep as long this time." He started clearing the table and making ready for bed.
"Oh don't worry, lad. You won't."
Merle whistled and moseyed on towards his room.

Pandas & Explanations

[I realized I left y'all hanging last week without some Seamus & Grampa Merle. So here's a preview of what's coming tomorrow! Enjoy!]

Seamus kept situated on the front porch until the sun finally set, and all his senses properly functioning. Making his way back into the house, he was greeted by the smell of sizzling bacon fat, pancake batter, and fresh made coffee.

"What's all this?" His mouth gaping open at the food that was spread out on the table before him.
"Dinner. Specifically breakfast for dinner. One of the best things in life, don't you reckon?" He smiled back at him and motioned for them to sit.

Somewhere between the bacon and the pancakes Merle decided to break into the subject he had been mulling over all day while Seamus slept. "So, Seamus." He started, making sure he had the boys full attention. "What exactly happened on the other side of the door?"
Seamus' eyes returned to his plate. He was chewing pensively before answering.
"Well. I met Magda, she's a cool old bitty. And then there was Percival, that big panda, that was wild! The whole thing was nuts. I was afraid I was dreaming."
"What made you think you weren't?" Merle refilled his coffee cup from the carafe sitting in between them.
"Something- something Madga said to me. She knew everything about me already, and there was something about her. When I was talking to her I kept getting the feeling that I already knew her from some other place. Trippy, I tell 'ya."
"Mm." Merle motioned with his cup for Seamus to continue.
"The best I can understand it, is that the Garden we were in is crazy magical. Right? There were all these other animals there, weird ones too. Not all of them could talk, at least not in English. Percival was the one that came up to me first. He invited me to sit with them at this huge round table."
"A round table meeting?" Merle's bushy eyebrows shot up. "That soon? Hm. Indeed. Keep going, please." Seamus wasn't sure what Merle was looking for, but he was too hyped up and curious to consider slowing down now.
"Alright, so all these crazy creatures and Magda start talking about this girl that's living with Magda. They don't really know what to do with her- apparently this girl just showed up out of the blue, right? Magda was going on and on about how she's done everything to keep this kid out of the Garden, but she just keeps sneaking in there and peaking around."
Merle was aware that Magda's one pupil had almost dropped out of the sky. There was no doubt in his mind that this little one would be integral in their plans, it was just a matter of figuring out what her purpose was.

Seamus kept on talking, getting more and more excited. "They all decided that the best thing was to for Mag's to bring her into the Garden next time and for them to 'name' her. Whatever that means. But anyway," Seamus scooted in and leaned forward conspiratorially, "I've been invited to the 'Naming Ceremony'." He was soon wearing Merle's coffee, as it was spewed halfway across the room.

"Holy hares, boy! You know what that means?" The young man stared back at him blankly.
"No, no of course you wouldn't. I'll put some more coffee on; explaining this is going to take all night."

View From the Porch

The sun was setting on one side of the door just as it was rising on the other. With a long exhale of smoke a long, lanky gentleman lazily watched the colors in the sky change from his rocker on the porch. His feet propped up on the railing, he put out his cigar in the remains of some thistle tea.

Just as he was finishing he thought, a tussle of hair and feet came falling out the front door.

"Sleep soundly, Seamus?" Merle's whiskers turned upward in delight.
"Soundly? SOUNDLY?" Seamus ran his nimble fingers through the dark curls as he plopped himself down in the rocking chair beside his new mentor. "I couldn't sleep for all the banging around you were doing in there. How long was I out?"

The older man couldn't help but chuckle. "That was breakfast, youngin'. You also missed lunch. I guess if you ask nicely I'll make some supper." With that he left Seamus on the porch and took his tea cup with him. "By the way," he called over his shoulder, "You were out for a whole day. Smartass." The screen door slammed for good measure.

Nowhere Man

Well folks it's finally time to see a glimpse of what happens when you step through a door to Nowhere. :) 


I wasted no time contacting Pendragon. He's one stubborn old goat, and only after I reminded him he owed me a favor did he concede to checking in on Arthur and the business with the Ministry.

Now with that done and Gwen sleeping soundly I could concentrate on the next pesky issue. There was only one person who could help in a time like this: Edith Piaf. That's the only way to get a giant Panda upset with you. Coincidentally it was the only way to bring Seamus back through the door. I knew Grant, the aforementioned panda, would be meeting the other Totems at Magda's. No doubt the Garden Summit would soon be under way.

I had only briefly met Grant one other time under less than optimal conditions and was in no way wanting to see him again. I knew I had no choice, the situation being what it was. I couldn't count on Seamus to find his way out, and my wife wouldn't be able to bring him until after the Summit was over.

As they say, desperate times call for desperate measures. And Edith Piaf was definitely a desperate measure.

I took the record from it's home on the bookcase in the hallway, dusted it off as best I could, and set it up on the player. All the while making sure it'd be cranked up good and loud.

Sure enough, five minutes had yet to pass when there was a frenzied knocking at the door. I opened it and there was one pretty peeved panda standing on the other side. Grant was no small fritter, his fluffy frame filled the doorway in all directions.

"Turn that cursed siren down, Merle! You know that brings back bad memories for me from the war." He growled low enough to be taken seriously. I grinned at him and turned off the record.
"Thank god, I couldn't stand that screeching. Now, I believe this belongs to you."
One big, black paw stretched out in front of him. Dangling from it was one scared, wide-eyed kid.
"Oh, Seamus? Yeah, he's mine. Got a little lost, forgot to warn him about the door." I motioned for Seamus to step back through. He was partly prodded by Grant.
"Not a problem. I think all things considering he rather enjoyed himself." The bear's expressed formed something akin to a smirk. Then, turning on his heels he saluted us and sauntered off.

"Oh," he hollered back "Magda says thank you for the flowers!"

Plans for Pendragon

Going to try and keep this as short as possible since last week's was so long. That and I'm not actually sure what Merle has up his sleeve. :)

I couldn't do much at the moment to bring Seamus back from the other side of the doorway so I had to settle for trying to calm Gwen down a notch or five.

I made my way back to the bedroom where I told Gwen she could camp out. Somewhere between sobs I heard her croak "Come in". I stood in front of her and tried to figure out what in the blue blazes was going on.

Where'd He Go?

A sort of longish chapter tonight. Merle explains a bit of the time travel business to his new apprentice; Gwen becomes a damsel in distress, and Seamus gets into trouble... Intrigued? You should be. ;)


Seamus was either the brightest kid I've ever met, or the dumbest. The jury was still out. Still there was an air about him that I found charming. I hadn't brought many of my rookies to my home, let alone on the first lesson. But in order to keep this as off the trail as possible, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Thistles & Roses

I know you guys can't live without Merle. Or rather, Clara can't. (Okay, me either.) ;) So here he is. I apologize for the length, there was no way I could squeeze it any tighter! ...Hope you enjoy!

This kid was due any minute, and I wasn't the least bit prepared.

Arthur and I had parted ways after stepping onto the platform from the tube. We hadn't done much talking the rest of the way. I could tell by the clouds in his eyes that he had gone back in his head. Fine by me, he was still too spoiled for my tastes.

Off the Books

 Another installement of Merle's Escapades. It seems like dealing with Arthur is actually less fun than paperwork. :)

Arthur was grumpy, even more so than usual I thought.

Merle's Take

Hey All- After some coaxing from Clara and a swift kick in the pants from Gertrude I've written a bit of a treat. Remember my favorite punching bag, Seamus? Well, here's a new chapter...from the perspective of everyone's favorite cowboy grandpa: Merle.

Chapter 3.141414: Jackrabbits on Speed

If there was one thing I hated, it was tacky hotel rooms. Arthur always insisted on meeting in them. I gave up arguing about it with him long ago.

The walls were lined with velvet- a brocade pattern. Purple carpeting brought out the red in the wallpaper. The cracks on the ceiling were making obscene gesture. Only one light bulb worked in the fixture above the headboard. I could hear the sound of post-coital hissing of cockroaches in the yellow rimmed bathtub. As far as dingy, disgusting dive hotel rooms go- this one was pretty plush.

Chapter 1: The House with Blue Roses

This is the first half of  Chapter 1 in our tale of how many ways I can abuse my characters. I'm dangling a Cadbury egg in front of my computer screen so I'll have a small reward for getting this entry written. Chocolate works for me every time. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1:The House with Blue Roses

As usual, something was on fire and I was catching the blame. The mechanics classroom of my school was ablaze. The first day and already I've messed something up. How was I to know that a combustion engine could... combust? Still, it wasn't entirely my fault. Sam was the real one at fault. After all, best friends for fourteen years he ought to know better than to dare me.

Chapter 4: Parrish The Thought (Part II)

[Happy International Irish Awareness Day, everyone! I hope you all got a little bit Irish tonight in whatever way you deem appropriate. Me? Corned beef, cabbage, carrots, taters, and Irish soda bread with the mum! Not to shabby. ;)

Here's the second half of the chapter I promised from last week. Which rounds us out and brings us up to speed to where we began at Chapter 5! Now, if only I can figure out what I want to say in Chapter 1...]

Things were not turning out according to plan.

No Merle to be seen or sensed. No windows to crawl out of, and the one door out was locked from the opposite side. I find myself pondering the age old question, "What Would Houdini Do?" when I hear a polite cough and shuffle from behind. A 180 spin on the heel and I am standing across from a gentleman propping up the corner wall.

He's tall, incredibly lanky, slight dark circles cradling wicked green eyes with a tossle of brown-black hair. He's devilishly good looking if I do say so myself. Which I am, because, well, he's me.

The thing you have to know about time traveling is that you aren't allowed to go back into time. I tend to forget this rule, especially if I find myself in a bind.

"Alrighty. How far back did I have to travel to safe my arse this time?" I have never talked to myself quite so literally before. Or for that matter, heard myself answer my own question.
"About fifteen minutes. I came back to make sure I didn't fudge up. I barely made it out last time." I, well the me standing in the corner, ruffled my (his) hair and scuffed the floor with his (my) shoe. Noticing your own quirks gets a bit trippy after a while.

"Fine, fine. Merle's going to hate me for this."
"Ne'er mind the old man, we got to get me out of this mess."
"I'm not disagreeing. How did I get out of here fifteen minutes ago?"
"The same way I got in. Use the damned watch."
"Ugh. You know that always makes me sick."
"Obviously. Now hurry it up a bit there, Houdini."
"Got it, got it."

Yes, time travelers keep watches. How do you think we kept ourselves sane? Our watches are only set to one time, however. And aren't to be used unless we find ourselves in the moment of life and death. I'm pretty sure if I broke the rule, came back to have a conversation with myself, and then used the watch it's safe to say things are somewhat serious.

Flicking the minute hand forward exactly fifteen minutes I hold my breath and count backwards from ten. This isn't where the magic happens, it just keeps me from tossing my cookies. Going forward through time is different for everyone. For me it's like being laced in a spider web then tossed on a roller coaster, rocketing through the night sky and landing face down. Why always face down? Not a clue. Then there's the smell of citrus everywhere and I'm fancy-pants dandy again.

This is exactly what happens. Only this time I have to jump up straight away and haul arse. On this occasion it's because I'm being chased by dogs. Fantastic.

I make for the woods, knowing all the paths from having played there as a child. Or at least, I thought I still knew them.

Chapter 4: Parrish the Thought

Here's the first half of Chapter 4 of our series in How to Abuse Your Characters You Love So Much.  Why only the first half? Because I'm tired after ransacking the house for chocolate. (The Sweet Tooth is a genetic thing. I'm looking at YOU, Dad! ;) )

Chapter 4: Parrish the Thought

I'm pretty sure it was the vodka that did it. How else could I explain waking up locked in the cellar of the house I grew up in before I was even born? Obviously, I should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque.

Chapter 3: Taylor Swift & Time Travel

Here is another chapter in our tale of "101 Ways to Abuse Your Characters". Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 3: Taylor Swift & Time Travel.

Taylor Swift. She's Bob Dylan in feminine form, (only much easier on the eyes), and a song of hers was blaring loudly from a salon next door to the bar. Merle had worked his magic on my poor banged up nose.  He prescribed ice packs every hour and a punchbowl full of vodka. I wasn't sure which was helping more, but by the time we retired for the evening I was feeling pretty good.

Chapter 2: Beer & Einstein

I apologize in advance for the jumping around of chapters. Let's lay the blame on my muse, Gertrude. As clearly, she is as my mom would say, "Not wrapped right".

In this chapter, we get to abuse Seamus a little bit more. (Yes, I'm evil.)

Chapter 2: Beer & Einstein

It all started with one too many beers. Einstein is also to blame, but more on that later. All I know is that after my fourth (fifth) beer I found myself in a heated debate with a robust gentlemen, (fat dirt bag), about Einstein’s theory of relativity. Normally what happens when you pin a scrawny Irishman against a burly sailor from Albany the odds are pretty good that the scrawny Irishman will wind up with his nose broken. 

Chapter 5: The Witches of Huckle Hollow

Hey folks! Here's a little bit of flash fiction for you. I wrote this over a year ago and have no idea what to do with it. This snippet is the fifth chapter- and it's also the only chapter I've written. Go figure. :) Hope you enjoy it!

I had not long been released from my parents cellar when I heard the familiar sound of crackling leaves approaching. The footsteps behind me were moving too quickly for me to out-pace. I leapt to my left to hide in the brush and hopefully avoid being seen. Had I leapt to my right I might have been better off.