Literati!

Mercifully, our much protracted contest Of Knights and Knaves is coming to a close.  We have a few more entries that made it under the wire, including this one by Janet Klise, which she calls:

Charlie’s Flight of Fancy

by Janet Klise

“Where did the boy find that kite-thing anyways, Ellie? It’s made of rawhide, looks like, but it has pieces of snake skin all over it.”

“Oh, my God… What was he thinking?”

“I thought it would fly, Mom.”

“I apologize for the abrupt manner of my deputy, Mrs. Brandt, but there are questions we must ask. I know how hard this must be for you.”

“It’s a dank and snarly kite for sure, and huge, anyways. The boy–”

“I think I know where it came from. From a trunk of Gramps’ stuff in the basement of the old farmhouse.”

“Mom! That’s a secret. Just me and Gramps know about it.”

“And who is Gramps, Ma’am?”

“Gramps? He was rather eccentric…”

“He was crazier than shit, Ellie.”

“Now Bill.”

“Now Ellie. He was my father. Gramps was Charles Brandt, the first, Sheriff, but Gramps is what everybody called him. He was 20 years older than my mother and he’s been 20 years dead. Died when I was ten, but he was gone all the time when I was a kid. He was a Carney, a magic act. I didn’t really ever know him.”

“Geez, I didn’t ever before either, Dad.”

“Our little Charlie was named after him…”

“I couldn’t even tell you what Gramps looked like, Sheriff.”

“I know what Gramps looks like — white beard, brown eyes, lots of wrinkles. He’s a crusty old guy, but real nice. Geez Louise, the only thing I had before was the name Gramps on the trunk.”

“Anything unusual in your son’s habits lately, Ma’am? Sir?”

“Well, I did hear some of his prayers last night. The little shit was praying for it to be windy.”

“Poor little boy. He was so sick this morning… He couldn’t even go to church with us, poor little lamb. We go to the Church of the Living Redeemer. The one on Cleveland Street. He liked it there.”

“Not!”

“Was he all right, Ma’am? I mean, no trouble at school?  No psychological issues? Was he being bullied, Mrs. Brandt? We need to know the facts.”

“Yeah, bullied. That’s a big bad deal. Now-days, anyways. Huh, Sheriff.”

“No, no. He was fine. We had only the normal kid things going on. He’s a good kid. Was… Oh, my God…”

“No disrespect, Mrs. Brandt, but he spent a lot of time in that old basement working on that crazy thing. And he managed to keep it from both of you. Could there be any other secrets he might have kept from you?”

“Yeah, I wanted to fly.”

“What secrets could he have, Sheriff? He’s only… He was ten.”

“What else was in that old trunk, Bill? Any weapons? Knives? A gun?”

“Oh shit no. Just old junk, if I remember right. And dead snakes. We can take a look at it if you need to, Sheriff.”

“That would be good. It might give us something concrete to work on. We don’t like dealing in suppositions, you know. Matter of fact, my deputy here can get some good photos of the trunk and its contents in a bit.”

“There was a taxidermy white rabbit in that trunk, Sheriff, stuffed in an old screwed-up black felt hat…”

“Yeah, I know. I almost puked when I found it, Dad. Geez. See, I pulled it out of that hat face first, and its face was missing a lot of fur and the skin was pulled back from the eye sockets. And those big front choppers scared the shit out of me. Sorry, Mom… Now he’s my favorite. I named him Buns.”

“It’s all right to cry, Mrs. Brandt. Just take your time.”

“I spread out the kite pieces in a pattern all over the basement floor. I had a plan. I had my wood glue and Dad’s upholstery needles and thread. You’d be proud how I did it, Dad. I wanted Gramps to like it too.”

“Dammit! He must have been in that damp old basement forever… Why didn’t he just let go of the goddamn kite?”

“Now Bill.”

“It looks like he staged that monster here at the top of the knoll. A good wind was

blowin’. It must-ah been perfect for flying a kite, anyways.”

“It was destiny. Buns and Gramps said so too.”

“He was always such a little shit for his age… He looks so small, laying there all twisted up.”

“I remember the wings kept hitting me in the face. They kept cutting my face… Geez, it hurt.”

“I called the coroner. He should be here any time now.”

“All right, Sheriff.”

“I was scared. Geez Louise, the more blood I saw and the more I looked at Bun’s eyes, the scareder I got. It hurt bad.”

“Who found him here?”

“I did. He wasn’t in his bed when we got home from church, so I went looking for him. I found him, bless his heart… Then Bill found the both of us.”

“I found them about an hour ago, Sheriff. Shit. I didn’t even recognize him… His face all torn up like that… But I could tell by his clothes it was Charlie.”

“Oh, my God. Look at him, Bill… Poor little guy. All that blood… ”

“I apologize, Ma’am. My deputy will get a blanket and cover him.”

“Oh, my God… That was my little Charlie’s face…”

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