Horned Vegetable Creature

Vegetable Monster MNE_4534_resize

Horned Vegetable Creature
written by thecook210 aka Adventure George
copyright: ©2013 GCheatle
all rights reserved

This is my story

I’m a cook. I like to experiment with various dishes: dishes that might become menu options.

So it was that late one Sunday morning I prepped vegetables for a chicken cacciatore recipe. It was in the design process for possible inclusion in my collection of recipes for groups of twenty or more.

The peppers, both red and green were chopped and the mushrooms quartered and the sweet onions sliced. They sat in piles, some on the chopping board some on the counter top nearby. I turned to collect the needed spices. And as I did, it was then that I first heard the noise.

Usually music plays when I cook, but today I had chosen silence. Sometimes silence is distracting. But today was different. Today it was what I refer to as “blessed silence.” The incessant chatter that life sometimes generates was gone. No one was around. It was just me and the quiet.

It was because of this quiet that I heard it, the noise.

It was a gentle slush, much like the sound of a slight breeze on a lazy sunny summer afternoon – just enough air to move the very smallest of the leaves. It wasn’t so much that I heard it. I felt it – someone or something was there. Yet it was enough of a sound/ sensation that I turned around to see if someone had entered the kitchen.

Nothing! No one was there.

I returned to the spice cupboard, my focus to retrieve just the right one – just the right blend. A spice can add much to the flavor of a dish. It can distinguish it from others dishes with the same basic ingredients.

As I collected them, I heard the noise again.

Again I turned quickly. This time I was fast enough to catch movement over by the chopping board. Movement, but no one was around.

Spice jars in hand; I returned to the counter and dumped them. Then I saw it. I must have seen it before but just didn’t believe it and so saw it not. But now it was such that I couldn’t deny it.

The separated vegetables just chopped had collected – coalesced –were in process to make a whole. When I saw what was forming, my blood ran cold. There was an involuntary shiver throughout my body. And the words “Oh My God” formed unbidden on my lips. Instinctively I moved back.

There before me, and starting to move, was some sort of vegetable insect.

Its features were not fine and delicate like most insects. They were wide, almost club like. It was a bug with thick light yellow-green horns attached to the very top of its head. Scales were formed along its “skin” and two white leg-like appendages on the lower body.

Momentarily I was frozen to the spot. My desire was to run. Yet at the same time, from somewhere deep within me there emerged a more primal instinct.

Kill” It said.

This instinctual voice repeated and very loudly, “Kill this bug.”

It demanded action on my part. “Eliminate it.” “Stop it, now.”

My hand flew to my well used chef’s chopping knife on the counter. I grabbed it and chopped down through the very middle of the bug. Again my hand rose. And again it swung down and cut the insect.

Again and again it rose and descended until there was nothing left but pieces of mushrooms and red peppers and green peppers and sweet onions.

It was over and I was out of breath. The horned vegetable monster was no more.

I poured myself a mug of coffee and sat on a nearby stool. And as the adrenalin drained out of my body, I asked myself what just happened. I wasn’t so sure. But one thing I did know. I wasn’t going to tell anyone of this.

And I haven’t -not until now. And I tell you because I’m sure you won’t judge my mental state or pass this story on to others.

End End End

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Detective Ronald Lewis

Character Introduction – Det. Ronald Lewis   

Detective Ronald Lewis is a fictional character in my in-process novel – Peter’s Vision. While a mystery, my intention is to populate it with interesting, true to life characters. Ron Lewis is one such. Let me introduce you to him in the following words.

Copyright: ©2013 GCheatle
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

I knew he was a cop as soon as he walked into my office. I rose to greet him and he towered over my five foot eleven and a half inches, even as I stood tall. Perhaps he was six five, maybe taller; almost half a foot higher than I was. I am too short. I know it and it bothers me.

He filled his gray suit with body that wasn’t fat.

It wasn’t his size that clued me into his profession. It was the way he walked, held himself. Tall to begin with, he was erect almost stiff. If it weren’t for the carpet on the floor, I am sure his well shined black leather and leather soled shoes would have tapped.

Immediately he reminded of gung-ho Officers I’d met while in the Army Medical Corp. Yes military bearing: stand tall, dress crisp, walk with conviction. It wasn’t so likely this was a spontaneous visit by the military in civilian garb – it was much more likely this was an enthusiastic police officer. Just the type I didn’t like so much.

He stopped and removed his gray fedora. “Doctor Carpenter,” he walked toward me and extended his hand. “I’m Detective Ron Lewis.” I took his hand.” A firm yet not overbearing shake.

This was the second time in two weeks I encountered the Police. I can’t remember the time before that. I don’t think that I had ever. I looked at him and just knew this wasn’t going to be good.

I gestured to the comfortable upholstered chairs over by a small table, clustered by a set of windows that looked out over a secluded court-yard. I intended it as a peaceful more intimate setting for folk, as comfortable as possible, that is, in a therapist’s office.

As we moved to the chairs, I took the opportunity and looked him over. He went together. I mean his dress matched his physical looks and each item the other. Either he has an innate sense of style, that, or someone dresses him.

He was in all grays and black, head to toe. I envy folks who can outfit themselves with clothes that match and then match the person. I’ve not been blessed with this sense.

A quick scan showed a light-skinned black man, shaved bald with an oblong shaped face, you know, almost egg-shaped. A silver stud glistened in his left ear, another in his right.  A short black goatee was under his lower lip. Thin black circled the glasses that sat a little way down his nose.

A silver chain was around his neck and hung breast bone high, flashed and caught my eye. The links were so large that they seemed as elongated O’s. I later saw a wide, silver, middle finger ring and matching  silver watch and band. The watch and ring were on his right hand. Probably he was left-handed.

Before we sat, he removed his gray tweed overcoat, folded it neatly and carefully draped it over one of the chair backs and placed the gray fedora on top. It was a precision placement, directly in the middle. He was a tad obsessive.

I remained standing for this and watched. When he finished I sat, he did also.

First meetings are information gathering for me. I am good at it. I learn much about a person in these first minutes. I suspect it is true for him also. I evaluated him, he me.

Grabbing the proverbial “bull by the horns,” I looked at him and asked, “What brings you to my office, Detective?”

“It is murder, Doctor Carpenter and a particularly gruesome murder at that.”

I was right; this wasn’t going to be good.

end end end end

“Preacher Fish” Discovered

Dispatch – Scarborough Maine
“Preacher Fish” Discovered Along the Atlantic Seaboard

Adventure George of Rochester New York on his recent expedition to the Maine coast discovered “this most unusual and distinctive fish.” Found near the Pine Point Fisherman’s Co-op dock (Scarborough, Maine), George dubbed it the Preacher Fish. This was due to the large open mouth and large observant eyes. A.G. said, “Any of you who know preachers will recognize the resemblance. They are ready to talk and always looking for that next volunteer.”

When sought for information, the Maine Fisheries Department said, “It sounds like a fish tale to me.” When asked for his response, George said, “It sure looks like a head to me. Government often gets things backwards and all turned around.”

Before it could be sent for further study, the fish head was carried off by a large black-backed sea-gull.

End Dispatch