C.L. Bloodworth’s Journal of Wondrous & Mysterious Tales

By C.L. Bloodworth

C.L. Bloodworth's Journal of Wondrous & Mysterious Tales is filled with tantalizing tales that will make you sometimes laugh and other times send shivers down your spine. Twenty short stories of the macabre, bizarre, magical, and hilarious fill these pages with a cast of characters straight out of the Who's Who of horror. Vampires, ghosts and werewolves as well as aliens, zombies and future earthlings, have crept into the pages of this journal just waiting to creep out when you, dear reader, open the cover.

Alas, C.L. Bloodworth was a brilliant but lonely boy who spent his youth locked in a dark, dank attic hiding from a mysterious malady while his brothers and sisters played outdoors just on the other side of the window. The reason for his confinement is rumored to be the result of a fateful encounter with a zombie, leaving him never again quite the same.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Team Marketing & Media
• Release date: Apr 12, 2017
• ISBN: 9780988505445

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C.L. Bloodworth’s Journal of Wondrous

and Mysterious Tales

By

C.L. Bloodworth

C.L. BLOODWORTH’S JOURNAL OF WONDROUS AND MYSTERIOUS TALES

Published in 2017 by Team Marketing and Media

Copyright © 2012 by Catherine Team

All rights reserved. This Book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, in any form (beyond copying permitted by Sections 107 and 108 of the United States Copyright Law, and except limited excerpts by reviewer for the public press), without written permission from Catherine Team.

Author services by Pedernales Publishing, LLC.

www.pedernalespublishing.com

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017937394

ISBN 978-0-9885054-3-8 Paperback Edition

ISBN 978-0-9885054-4-5 Digital Edition

Printed in the United States of America

CONTENTS

Aliens, Vampires, Demons, Ghosts, Angels, Zombies, Plagues, Werewolves, Murderers, Assholes, Genies, Magicians, and Lovers … that’s a lot.

West Texas, 2008. Even Zombies Need a Little Direction

Albuquerque, New Mexico, 2008. The Angel Said, Don’t smoke.

Southern California, 2012. Frank, Vinpee, and Me

Brooklyn, 2010. Oscar Wolfsberg, D.V.M.

Everywhere, U.S.A., 2000. Everyone Knows They Suck the Blood Out of the System

Amarillo, Texas. 2012. Redneck Genie

Dallas, 1975. Balloons

Washington, D.C., 2012 & 2050. The Girl, the High, and Why

Santa Barbara, California, 2009. Don’t Stiff the Tip

Enid, Oklahoma, 2011. Nash’s Ashes

Chicago 2012. The Antiques Dealer

Austin, Texas, 2007. My Alien Nature

Chicago, 2010. Ghosts Don’t Go Bump in the Night

Leesburg, Virginia, 2012. Zombie Marketing

Upstate New York, 2008. It’s All in Your Head

Dallas, 1989. The Devil Has to Advertise

NYC, 2012. Rock ’n’ Rollover Rover

Manhattan, 2011. Vamps with Lots of Blonde Hair

Pensacola, Florida, 2012 Be Careful What You Wish For

Austin, Texas, 1953. Any Nutcase Can Change a Tire

This book is lovingly dedicated to my family, without whom I would be found wanting in every way imaginable.

1.

West Texas, 2008

Even Zombies Need a Little Direction

I ’m gonna tell you how zombies came to Texas.

The old cowboy was sitting by the campfire, drinking coffee and spitting between sentences. Cowboy Smitty had a real affinity for drinking and spitting. His audience was a bunch of worn out cowpokes. They were so tired from riding with the herds outside Amarillo that by this point in the evening they were ready to listen to anything.

Now, he settled in for the story and spat at a bug on the ground. Bull’s-eye. "Two Haitians was driving through west Texas. They stopped to pee and get some soft drinks and Munchos.

"The older woman and the man had the African, French, and English mixture of ancestors of their native island. She smiled a lot. Not the kind of nice smile, though, but the kind of smile that showed her white teeth and dark gums. She was one evil, shriveled-up, old spell-maker. Anybody or anything that crossed her was in for trouble. All except her husband, his name was Spat. They had true love, which is rare in any part of the world, and very rare in the voodoo world.

After they got their Cokes and Munchos, Smitty went on, then Spat and Bella Donna got back into their rattletrap sedan that had a broken side window and broken back taillight. Both had been taped up with red tape. Some car. But it worked, and that was all Bella Donna and Spat wanted or needed. They were on their way to a voodoo convention in, of all places, El Paso.

……

Get a move on. We need to drive all night. She was raggin’ on him somethin’ fierce.

Don’t be tellin’ me what I should do, woman.

They had been together for forty years. It was an old-fashioned relationship. She ran the show most of the time, but every once and a while, he would pull rank on her. Like now.

Now, Spat, we got to turn here.

No, we do not. We turn up ahead.

Forty miles later, they found they were in Snyder, Texas, very lost. That’s when the car ran out of gas.

Oh, Spat, I told you to turn back there. Now we’ll miss the opening ceremony, and it promises to be big and scary. I really wanted to see it. You are such a dimwit. She stormed out of the car, slammed the door, and sat on the car hood in the darkness. What are we to do? she whined.

Spat got out of the car and walked calmly to the side of the road. He said one word: Thumb.

Thumb? She leveled her eyes with his.

Thumb, he replied.

So they stood to the side of the road and put out their thumbs.

Immediately, two rough-looking rednecks in a truck almost as run-down as Spat’s sedan drove up and stopped. They were just as evil and bad as the people they were picking up, but neither knew it at that time. A’ course anyone that knows bad knows that when bad meets bad, nothing good’s gonna come of it. Well, nothing did this time either. Smitty continued the story.

Hop in, the first redneck, Sam, said. He pointed to the open truck bed, for Spat and Bella Donna to climb in.

Spat said, At least we got a ride, and while these rough-looking cowboys look mean, maybe they won’t hurt us. Maybe they’ll drop us at a gas station. I think we just need more gas.

Old Bella Donna just grunted and said, We shall see about that.

Now, Bella Donna, don’t you be thinkin’ what I think you’re thinkin’. Don’t think you can use your black magic on them. They ain’t done nothin’ to you, said Spat.

Well, if they do, then I’ll strike like a snake and take what I need. She smiled again and Spat could see those gums and teeth glisten even in the dark night. He shuddered.

Inside the cab, the two rednecks were talking, Those old black people are sure a pair. It’s a shame they have to be our next ones. Sam was driving through the town and had no intention of stopping.

His partner, Mike, was digging at his teeth with a toothpick as he said, It’s a shame, but it’s gotta be. We need the money and those types always carry cash when they travel in a foreign country.

They went through the town without stoppin’, and Spat and Bella Donna were lookin’ around and thinkin’ they were in for some trouble for sure.

Yep, they were in trouble and they knew they were in double trouble when the redneck cowboys finally stopped in a deserted area where there were some boulders and not much else. Dusk had settled in and the stars were even afraid to come out. It was a bad scene

The two rednecks got out of the truck. The first one had a beer belly that would burst the pearl buttons off his best shirt and the second had teeth that could eat a corncob through a picket fence. Get down here right now. Sam had a gun in his hand and he had to hold his gun out front of his paunch. He was motioning them to get down with his gun. Hurry. He had a nasty grin just like Bella Donna’s. They grinned their nasty grins at one another. The breeze was cool and quiet.

But old Bella Donna was ready. She had no intention of getting down from the truck just then. She took some little bones out of a little bag and threw them down on the rednecks, then followed them with some foul-smellin’ dust. Then she said in a kind of singsongy voice, Guns and knives will end your lives, but you will not be dead. The zombie god of all that’s cruel will eat your silly head. You’ll walk around our earthly ground, but your mind will be an empty mound. Ha Ha. She grinned and giggled at the same time.

With that, the rednecks fell down and wiggled around on the ground for a while like something was bitin’ ’em. Somethin’ was. Their eyes rolled back in their heads and they howled like donkeys. It was a fierce sight to anyone but Spat and Bella Donna.

Spat and Bella Donna finally got out of the truck bed and sat down on a small boulder to wait. They had seen this process before. Bella Donna pulled out a nail file and filed her long nails. Spat picked his teeth with his index fingernail.

Well, he said, I guess you had no choice that time.

No, no choice at all. She shook her head with a little regret.

Do you know where the keys are? asked Spat.

He left them in the ignition. She pointed to the cab.

Well then, let’s get in and find El Paso. He rubbed his hands together. Spat was ready to get away. It was getting dark and scary, even for him.

They climbed in the cab and threw out the rednecks’ bottles of booze. They didn’t drink and didn’t like the smell of them that did.

By then, the newborn zombies were standing up straight and stiff.

Bella Donna rolled down the truck window and talked to the zombie rednecks. Now I want you to travel in a big circle for the next week. When I come back, I will tell you what I want. Await my orders.

She rolled up the window and she and Spat drove off in a cloud of dust. Nobody looked back. Those zombies were so much nothing to them.

...…

Cowboy Smitty spat again. And that’s how zombies came to Texas, boys.

One of the cowboys sitting around the campfire asked, How’d they get rid of them?

They didn’t. They’re still out there, roamin’ around in circles looking for directions. Cowboy Smitty waved his hand toward the west in circles. If you see one, tell ’im to head south. The terrain is real tricky there.

What became of the Haitians? asked another cowboy that seemed half asleep.

Oh, them. Smitty shrugged. They got first-class tickets back to Haiti, courtesy of the El Paso hotel they were stayin’ in. Bella Donna threatened to put a hex on the manager ‘cause he didn’t refill the mini-bar with peanuts. Said she was gonna shrink his head to the size of a Brazil nut. Never heard if she really did or not. Would have been an interesting sight. They left the next day.

Smitty looked around the camp. Everyone was asleep but the zombies.

2.

Albuquerque, New Mexico, 2008

The Angel Said, Don’t Smoke.

It has been said by those in the know that angels live among us, and when a celestial presence is needed, they influence our behavior. The rest of the time they just hang out with us. It has also been said that angels take on physical traits to camouflage themselves and integrate unnoticed into our society. That makes them very hard to identify.

I think I met an angel the other day. I can’t tell for sure, but my gut tells me I met an angel. What matters is not so much that I met the angel, but that the angel met me and steered me in the right direction. A direction that I was not inclined to go in the first place. I also wondered later if the angel was just hanging out on another mission or was sent there just for me. I will never know.

I was filling my tank at the gas station at a local convenience store. You know what they’re like. You’ve been to them a gazillion times. Self-serve. Fill-er-up. I swiped my card, put in ten dollars’ worth, stuffed the gas nozzle back where it belonged, and then decided I was dying of thirst. After all, it was three o’clock in the afternoon and 101 degrees outside. Iced tea or water was definitely needed.

I strolled into the store and walked toward the glass doors of the refrigeration units. I was deep in thought about what I would buy and stood there, studying the options until I saw something that looked pretty good and decided to give it a try. I had never tasted coconut-flavored water before.

I reached in, pulled out a bottle, and walked up to the cash register and began to pull enough dollars from my pocket to cover my purchase.

The cashier looked to be about forty-five, and she had stringy red hair and piercing blue eyes. Maybe sometime earlier she had been pretty, but the pretty ship had sailed a long time ago. She was about five-foot-two, weighed around 300 pounds, and moved like a tank, slow but sure. She also had a cigarette smoker’s voice, and I surmised that her skin had turned ruddy from fast living and bad food. She was wearing a T-shirt that said Kiss Me I’m Irish, but I was willing to bet no one had taken her up on that request in the last fifteen years.

Other than my noticing what she looked like, there’s not much to tell until she turned around to pull a couple packs of Marlboros off the shelf for the customer ahead of me.

He was wearing a black leather vest, black jeans, and black cowboy hat and had asked for cigarettes that were at the top of the shelf. It was almost as if he’d chosen that brand on purpose to make her do extra work for him.

They were just out of reach for her. It was a stretch. And not the good kind of stretch when an attractive and fit woman stretches her long thin body, making it even more desirable. No, this was the type of painful stretch like the fabric of a small shirt that can barely contain the belly blubber of its host—a fact playing out right before my eyes.

That’s when I saw something on her back that I swear were wings tucked under the straining T-shirt. They made this rough heart-shaped outline near her shoulder blades and ran down her back. They weren’t huge like you think of angels’ wings, but only about twelve inches wide and about as long.

I didn’t think a thing of it at the time. I just figured she had a bad back and had stuffed something in there to make it feel better and pad the ailment, whatever the ailment might be. By the looks of this poor lady, she probably had any number of aliments, including a few skin diseases I imagined.

After finally retrieving the packs, she turned around to the cowboy in the black hat and studied him as she handed the cigarettes over. He gave her the exact change, and she grabbed his hand. Her arm had moved so fast, it reminded me of the only time I had ever seen a rattlesnake hit its victim.