When Morning Comes Too Early Excerpt "Heather Darling and the Case of the Clockwork Cannibal" HR Apostos

“Do you want to meet me for lunch?” He asks.

I mutter something incoherent.

“I am an optimistic man and I rocked it last night so I’m going to take that as a ‘yes’.”

I nod, mutter, and point to his dirty clothes that have grown into a pile on my bedroom floor. I hear movement and know that he’s glancing at the clock.

“I’m going to be late. I’ve got to go.”

I take a deep breath of his scent as he kisses me one more time. I hear the door close softly. Detective Farina is gone.

I am just settling on to my chaise on an abandoned beach next to a well oiled and tan looking Farina when…the door creaks. I hear four paws and several nails tap tap tapping across my bedroom floor. Then a weight upsets the quiet of my bed. There is a scent of doggy breath and something licks my ear. “We worked last night Grey. I’m still sleeping.”

Grey licks my cheek. I lift a hand without looking and give the wire-haired terrier mix an ear scratch. “I’ll get up in an hour. Go back to bed.” I feel him move to the foot of the bed and curl up into his favorite spot, where Farina’s feet had been minutes earlier. Grey licks a few times, sighs, and everything is quiet again.

A few minutes later, another set of paws skitter across the floor. I feel new weight on the bed. The mattress shifts with each step. The new arrival comes to a stop next to my face. A paw lands on top of my head, a wet one. Smelly too.

“Buddy. Buddy!” I hear Heather calling as she walks up the stairs. “Let’s go! Mommy’s got your bath water run. I found Squeakie.” Heather walks up the hall and through my bedroom squeaking all the way. “There you are. Naughty Boy.”

I try not to move. Heather sees movement. Every movement. I try to hold my breath but a sneeze escapes.

“Good, you’re up.” She says cheerfully.

Too damn cheerfully if you ask me.

“No, I’m not.”

Heather’s footsteps cross the room. I hear her stop next to my side of the bed. The weight next to my head lifts when she picks up Buddy.

“Open your eyes.” She says.

“No.” I cuddle further into my warm cocoon, refusing to budge.

“Heather Darling, open your eyes and look at your bed sheets.”

I open one eye to see a dark blob on the sheet in front of me. Then I open both of them. There is a mess of black/brown goo on my bed sheets.

“Now sniff.”

I glare at Heather for a moment and then do as ordered.

“Buddy is in fine form today. He’s in such fine form that when I let the boys out to do their business this morning after doing his thing,”

“Peeing.” I mutter.

“He proceeded to roll over for a back rub in mud and a pile of...”

“Shit.”

“Exactly. So as it turns out Heather Darling, you are now up for the day.”

“Crap.”

When A Self-Proclaimed Mercenary Goes Hunting

Tinkletoes makes a face that silences all. The self-proclaimed mercenary turns his head, taking in all of House’s changes. He raises an eyebrow and says, “You must have those hilts well hidden.”
“Yes. I do.” She proclaims with a lilt of pride.
Tinkletoes steps away from the wall with his drawing on it and looks into the living room from the kitchen. He takes one step, his heavy combat boot meets the stone floor. He takes another louder step with the other foot. Each step is deliberate and each one heavier than the last. He stops at a wall and rams into it with a muscled shoulder. Tinkletoes moves a few inches down the wall and does it again.
“What…what are you doing?” House asks nervously.
“Nothing much.” He answers as he opens the pantry and pushes against its back wall. “Just admiring your improvements House. Can’t a guy do that?”
“Did you see the improvements that I made to my living room?”She asks.
“What’s going on?” Paige whispers.
Dylan crooks a finger at his older sister, she leans down. “House is trying to distract Tinkletoes so he doesn’t break something.”
“Show me.” The self-proclaimed mercenary says. He follows House’s voice into the living room taking slow, heavy steps the entire way.
“It took months to decide between carpet and wood floor. Then Mural Man reminded me that three cats in a house means three times the hair balls. He knows how much I detest having my floors smell like cat food.” House continues to narrate her tour. “I added a closet to the main entry for coats and things.” In her excitement House creates a temporary opening through the wall, leading Tinkletoes straight to her latest addition.
Writer Lady says, “TP.”
The faerie flutters close by.
“Will you please go and find out what’s going on?”
The faerie disappears in a puff of smoke.
“Since Tinkletoes and House seem to be working things out on their own, who wants pancakes?”
All three children call out “I do.”
“Let’s get breakfast quickly before House changes something else.” Writer Lady says. “Has anyone seen my skillet?”
Tinkletoes walks through the opening speaking in brief acknowledgments with a strange sparkle in his eye.
TP appears in front of Tinkletoes.
“Yeah?”
“Writer Lady wants to know what’s going on.”
“Man stuff.”
TP giggles and continues to flutter in front of the self-proclaimed mercenary careful not to fly into Tinkletoes as he’s hunting.
“Are you going to help or just keep flying in front of my face?”
TP disappears in a puff of smoke.
“I thought not.” Tinkletoes continues down one of House’s new hallways. It is unusually long and appears to grow longer with each new step. “How long are you gonna make this thing?”
“Take one more step and voilà.” House says.
Lights go up and Tinkletoes enters to find a wall with six large flat screens mounted to it (two rows of three), a console organizer with LED back lighting, and a large sectional sofa. The ultimate gaming room.
“What’s this?” The self-proclaimed mercenary asks.
“This is Dobby’s room. He wanted something special so when you play together, the men get to have fun without any stupid kittens in your way.”
“It’s kitten proof?” He asks.
“Neither Writer Lady nor the kittens can see this room. It was the first enchantment woven into the room’s design and one of my favorites. That and sound proofing. Mural Man has been helping me. We are having fun putting special touches into everyone’s individual space.”
“Everyone has their own room?”
“Everyone will.”
“How did you get Writer Lady to agree to that?”
“She told me to?”
“Writer Lady told you to give everyone a room?”
“Yes.” House answers.
“What did she say exactly?” Tinkletoes asks.
“I want there to be plenty of room for everyone.”
“That’s not the same as giving everyone an individual room.” Tinkletoes says with a grin.
“Everyone has a room. Dobby has the gaming room, the kittens have a play room with live trees to climb, TP has a bachelor pad, Aunt Purdy, Furnatche, and the kids have an adventure bungalow room, Diomedes has his own study off of High Command, Carp has a space that he designed, Ray’s room looks like a giant cheese puff, Daemon has a sauna room...”
“Wait a minute...you gave the demon a room?”
House sighs. “I created something more in tune with his natural environment. Demons require longer rest periods than other magical beings as well as much warmer atmosphere. Don’t you know anything?”
“What else have you got?”
“Pirate and the Lady With The Long Gold Hair have adjoining cabins that resemble those on a cherished ship from his previous life.”

“Monitor Man?” Tinkletoes asks. “Where’s his room?”

“Mural Man and I can’t decide if I should build one for him or not. He hasn’t been around for a while. What do you think?” House asks.

Tinkletoes looks closely at the gaming equipment, the big screens, the snack area, the self cleaning cat box. “Dobby will love it.”

“Thank you. That wasn’t what I was asking.”

“What do I think about you building Monitor Man a room?”

“Yes.”

“Monitor Man and I aren’t really that close. Why ask me?”

“Mural Man says that even though you act like an obnoxious, self-serving, know-it-all that deep down. It must be really deep down, seriously deep, deep down.”

“I get it House.”

“Mural Man says that somewhere inside of you there is a good man.”

Tinkletoes looks away from the couch and at the ceiling. “Thanks.”

“Should I?”

“Have you and Mural Man worked out a design?”

“A roomy man cave with a custom fireplace and clean lines.”

“Save it.” Tinkletoes says. “He’s not my favorite person but it would be a nice thing to do to keep the design on hand, just in case.”

Tinkletoes exits Dobby’s gaming room through a door on the far end of the room to find himself in a hallway with vintage bulkhead light fixtures and  a steel door in military green.

“Where does this door lead?” He asks.

“To your room.”

Excerpt "Heather Darling and the Case of the Clockwork Cannibal"

Lunch At The Bistro

I manage to hide from everyone for the rest of the morning only emerging from the house to meet The Super Vagina for lunch. I start to cancel six times but my pride won’t let me. So here I am at twelve-thirty in the afternoon walking to a bistro four blocks from Heather’s. I find Detective Farina waiting for me, menu in hand. I plop down in the chair across from him feeling annoyed. I pick up the menu in front of me and pretend to study it. From behind my barricade I watch Detective Farina as he peruses and wait to pounce. The waiter comes to our table and Detective Farina orders. I cannot wait to lay into him but on the other hand. It’s not very nice to yell at someone right before they eat.

“And for the lady…”

I am brought back from my ‘He ruined my morning by existing and now he must die’ moment to find both men looking at me expectantly. “Salad?” I spurt out.

“Which one?” The waiter asks.

“Yeah…um…which one.” I look at the menu that I’m holding. “There’s a really good one, with chicken on it.” I find it just in the nick of time. “Grilled Chicken Salad. I’ll have the Grilled Chicken Salad.”

The waiter and the detective exchange glances.

“Two grilled chicken salads.” The waiter announces. “To drink?”

Detective Farina looks at me and asks. “How about an iced tea?”

I nod.

“Two iced teas.” The waiter announces. He takes the menus from us and wanders off to do waiter stuff.

“How are you feeling?” Detective Farina asks.

“Tired, cranky.”

 

He nods. He doesn’t ask why I am cranky. He doesn’t admonish me for my mood either. He sees that this is my current state of being and quietly accepts it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks.

“I’m not sure what there is to talk about. I’m tired, it seems impossible to get any sleep and everyone is acting weird.”

“Things have been busy.” He agrees. “And as for the weirdness…I spoke to a witness this morning who swears that the dead are rising from their graves and taking over our bodies. An evil voodoo shaman is controlling everything. Or will be quite soon.”

“Really?”

“We will all be getting our instructions from the voodoo shaman through our cell phones.”

The waiter arrives with our order. Detective Farina looks at his lunch, looks at the waiter and says, “This looks good but I think that it could be better. Could I get a side order of brains?”

The waiter pales.

“He’s not serious.” I tell the waiter.

Detective Farina has not turned his gaze. “I’m completely serious.” He says. “I must re-fuel before we take over.”

The waiter looks at me. I shake my head.

“On second thought, you look intelligent. Your brain should be very tasty. Just squat down here. I’ll take a quick bite. “

The detective looks at me and says, “It tastes just like sushi.”

The waiter looks at me, eyes wide. “Is he serious?”

Detective Farina’s phone vibrates on the table. He checks the message. “It looks like I have new instructions from our leader. You can go.”

The waiter skedaddles.

“What?” He asks. “It was funny.”

 I can feel my demeanor softening, “Not for the waiter.”

“You were smiling. That’s what’s important.” 

The detective’s phone vibrates again. He gestures for the waiter, who comes to our table, slowly. “I have to get back to work. Can I get this to go?”

The waiter nods and takes his plate. Detective Farina leaves money for both the bill and the tip. “I’m sorry.” He says, looking at me.

“I know.”

He walks to my side of the table and bends over to kiss me good-bye. “Go home. Get some rest, we’ll have fun tonight.”

Drawing Lines

“You wouldn’t dare,” House yells.

“No, House you’re right. I wouldn’t dare anything.” Tinkletoes reaches out to the pine panel in front of him and begins to doodle. “Always remember. I am a soldier. I don’t dare. I do what needs to be done.” After several minutes, the self-proclaimed mercenary steps back from his creation.

Writer Lady, Carp, Ray, Tinkletoes, TP and both kittens all study the result of his efforts.

Peter enters the kitchen with Paige, Dylan, and Furnatche in tow. They stop to look at the newest addition to House’s interior. Dylan proclaims. “I did not do that.”

“Of course you didn’t. You’ve been with us all morning.” Peter says.

“I did it.” Tinkletoes announces.

Paige looks at the drawing on the wall, she steps closer and studies it. “The similarities between this and one of Dylan’s stick drawings is uncanny.”

Ray chomps on a cheese puff. He looks at Tinkletoes. “You draw like a four year old. Totally cool man.”

“As long as nobody blames this on me.” The tow-headed boy’s face grows serious. He looks at the self-proclaimed mercenary and asks. “If you only draw stick people how can you show the other soldiers what to do?”

“I abbreviated things.” Tinkletoes announces with a grin.

“And they just knew what you meant?” Dylan asks.

“Everyone used the same abbreviations, that way, we all spoke the same language.”

“They use ‘X’s like in football.” Paige says.

“The military is more sophisticated than football.” The self-proclaimed mercenary grins. “Let me show you.”

A large white board on an easel along with a marker appears to the left of Tinkletoes. There is a note on the board that reads: WRITE HERE.

Tinkletoes holds up his drawing charcoal and says, “Thanks House. I’ve got this.” He turns back to the freshly installed pine paneling and commences drawing. “First, you have to map things out.” He continues to narrate as he draws. “Here’s the camp. The enemy camp is hidden by this hill.” He draws an upside down “V” shape. “Over here is the access road. There are mountains to the east and an ocean to the west.”

“Are you going to add happy little trees?” Dylan asks. “The man on TV puts in happy little trees.”

“No, it’s not that kind of a picture.” Peter says.

“There’s a mountain range over there.” Tinkletoes draws a bulky looking shape. “Here are our guns.” He says adding several ‘X’s. “Hiding over here is the enemy.” He announces drawing several ‘O’s. “That was how I communicated with my men.”

“It looks just like football.” Paige says.

“No it doesn’t.” The self-proclaimed mercenary counters folding his arms.

“It kind of does.” Writer Lady agrees.

Ray points to the wall with a cheese puff. “Yep.”

“There are mountains.” Tinkletoes points out.

“On a football field.” Writer Lady counters.

“Okay fine. Maybe soldiers don’t draw.”

TP pops in and flutters through the air directly in front of the wall. “Oh my goodness.” The faerie exclaims. “TP fix.” The faerie waves a hand over the surface of the wall and the ‘X’s and ‘O’s begin disappearing.

“I need that.”

“No you don’t. You need to clean up the mess that you made.” House says. “I was pretty and you ruined it.”

“I made a bold strategic move.” Tinkletoes counters. “If you want to be pretty again then give me my hilts!”

“I don’t know that they look like.” House says.

Writer Lady looks at the ceiling and raises an eyebrow.

“Does it look like this?” House projects a picture of a stilt on to the front the dishwasher.

Carp taps Tinkletoes on the arm. Tinkletoes glares at Carp. Carp points to the illuminated illustration.

“No.” Tinkletoes answers.

“What about this?”

A picture of a Pogo stick appears.

“Picture a sword without the sharp end.” Writer Lady suggests.

A picture of a sword with the pointy end removed appears.

“No, no, NO!” Tinkletoes says. He pulls his Bowie knife out of the case he wears on his hip and covers the blade. He holds it towards the ceiling.

Tinkletoes looks at Writer Lady, “Can she see this? Where are her eyes?”

“She’s magic. She has 360 vision. Silly Human.” TP giggles.

Tinkletoes nods. “Look for something like this. Just the handle.”

“That’s not very impressive is it?”

Tinkletoes’ neck reddens and slowly begins traveling up the length of his neck.

Peter whispers something to Dylan and the four-year old runs out of the kitchen with Furnatche on his heels. The tow-headed boy returns with his recently broken toy light saber.

Dylan holds it up and says, “Like this. See?”

“Oh.” House says.

“Do you know where they are?” Writer Lady asks.

“Yes...maybe...who says that I know where they’re at?”

“It would be a really nice thing to do if you gave Tinkletoes his hilts. It is not his fault that they were stored in the attic when you began working on new layouts for yourself. I was the one that stored them there.”

“I don’t care. I don’t like him and I don’t want the boob to have his toys.”

Tinkletoes puts his knife away and runs his hand down the length of his face in frustration. TP flutters up to Tinkletoes’ ear and whispers something. The self-proclaimed mercenary raises an eyebrow and smiles.

“You know House, Mural Man isn’t going to be happy when he finds out that you’re acting like this.”

“So.” House challenges.

“Where is Mural Man?”

“He’s out...getting his fold lines ironed.”

The redness begins to dissipate and one side of Tinkletoes’ mouth turns up in a grin. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if Mural Man knew how you were behaving.”

TP whispers something else to Tinkletoes.

“No.” Tinkletoes says.

TP whispers again.

“No.” He answers and shakes his head.

The faerie persists.

“I’m a man. I’m not sayin’ that about another man.”

TP tries again.

Tinkletoes growls. It is a low rumble, barely audible. He glares at TP. The faerie holds up both hands on either side of his shoulders apologetically. Tinkletoes clears his throat. “Yeah. It would be a shame if Mural Man found out. You might not see his umm..." the self-proclaimed mercenary pauses before he finishes his sentence,"shapely behind again for a long time.”

“Fat chance. He’s nuts about me. Try again Soldier Boy.”