Author Archive for L. John Ribar

Stairway to Heaven II

Written by
L. John Ribar
on October 28, 2007 in Issue 1.16. 2 Comments
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (3 votes, average: 4 out of 5)
Loading ... Loading …

I started up the first set of steps, the children behind me still chanting words of encouragement. At the first landing, I was met by a small man, cloaked in robes of deep purple. His face was nearly hidden, and he didn’t look up as he asked, “Up or down?”

I thought for a minute. Of course I was trying to go up. Why would he ask?
“What are my options?”
“Up or down.”
I looked back at the kids, who were all pointing to the top of the steps, gesturing wildly for me to answet correctly.
“Up, I guess.”
“That is correct. Proceed, Mark.”
“How do you know my name?”
“You are expected. Please proceed, and stay on the steps.”
He sat down in the corner of the landing and folded his arms. His head dropped and his breathing slowed.
With no other choices obvious, and with his adminition to continue, I went up the next flights of steps. At the next landing, there was another man. This one was standing tall, dressed in robes of bright orange.
“Hello, Mark. I’m glad you’re here. I am going to answer some of your questions.”
Good, I thought. Now we’re getting somewhere..
“Okay. What’s going on?”
“You died in the bus accident, Mark. I’m sure you knew that already. But these steps are the qualifications you need to enter the eternities. You will be asked questions about your life and feelings at each landing, and your answers, and any discussions, will be used to determine your worthiness to continue.”
“What question are you going to ask?”
“I have two questions. You may not pass if you give the incorrect answers, and I already know the truth, so please answer honestly.”
Continue reading ‘Stairway to Heaven II’

Stairway to Heaven

Written by L. John Ribar in Issue 1.13. 3 Comments
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 4 out of 5)
Loading ... Loading …

“Where are they going?” I ask the man next to me. He had won the chess game, but each piece he lost stood for a child that would die in my bus accident. He told me he had never lost a game, and watching his skill as he played, I knew he would do the best he could to save the children.

The other man, the Japanese guy who had been driving the car that caused the accident, didn’t know about the arrangement, so he just played his best to win.

As each piece was lost to the foreign driver, a child would walk into the area, and stand around the picnic table to watch the proceedings. They knew each other, had been on the bus together, and probably wondered what was going on. I wanted to tell them, but was forbidden by a kick under the picnic table from my champion.

When the game ended, as if on queue, all the children followed the Japanese man out of the area, through an opening in the bushes. I stand and start after them, not sure what is supposed to happen next.

I turn around to repeat my question, annoyed at the lack of response, but the chess player is gone. The picnic table is gone, and so is everything else that was here in the park. Where is everyone?

The bushes surround me on all sides, but I no longer see any openings. I can see the trees just behind the bushes, and what looks like a deep forest beyond that. No one else around. I don’t know where I am. What is going on? I was driving the bus, and then… oh my gosh, the accident. The children in the bus, the bus flipping over into the creek.

How many did I lose?

Continue reading ‘Stairway to Heaven’

Entry Fee

Written by L. John Ribar in Issue 1.12. 3 Comments
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (2 votes, average: 3 out of 5)
Loading ... Loading …

Immersed in complete darkness, Mark felt like he was sliding down a long pipe, slipping and sliding to the left and right, sometimes on his back, sometimes facing impossibly down. He was going faster and faster, and started feeling sick to his …

Suddenly, he was in the light. Sitting at a picnic table, watching two men play chess. Or checkers. Or maybe even cards. Neither of them had moved, and all the games were there in front of them. It looked like they were concentrating on the chess game, but Mark was having a hard time keeping his thoughts straight. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was …

The bus. He had been driving the bus this morning, his normal early route. Forty-three children on their way to another happy day in elementary school. Then forty-three children in the ditch, the last thing he saw. Someone driving on the wrong side of the road, weaving in and out of traffic, on and off the road. Right toward him, toward the …

The man next to him moved his rook, taking a pawn from his opponent. As a prize, he reached to the checkers board, jumped a piece, and rather than just removing the offender from the board, he ate it.

Continue reading ‘Entry Fee’

Thanks

Written by
L. John Ribar
on September 15, 2007 in Issue 1.11. 5 Comments
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (3 votes, average: 3.67 out of 5)
Loading ... Loading …

Her hand hovered tentatively over the skin of the beautiful red fire truck. She was almost afraid to touch it. As her hand finally crossed the space and rested, she remembered vividly that morning in September. The children rushing for the bus, playing tag in the front yard with the neighborhood, moms waiting at the bus stop, sharing stories and bowls of fresh garden tomatoes to share.

The boys got on the bus, and she went about her morning duties, wondering why the siren was so loud. The fire house was only three blocks away, but the sirens were more and more common once school started. She heard the siren pass, heard the sounds of the trucks as they rumbled by the end of the street. This truck.

Continue reading ‘Thanks’

Permanent Vacation

Written by
L. John Ribar
on September 8, 2007 in Issue 1.10. 4 Comments
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (4 votes, average: 3.75 out of 5)
Loading ... Loading …

I sat at the edge of the boat, looking out across the water, waiting for someone, anyone, to say something. Balancing at the edge of falling in. Wondering what I should do next.

We came for the weekend, our group of “halves”. People without spouses. You might think we looked like a dating group, being single and all, but none of us were interested in dating. Especially not each other.

We came here each month for a late afternoon cruise. A short trip out on the water. At the start, there were almost twenty of us. It had been a fun trip then. A couple of boats, a trunk full of beer, and we had hours of pleasure before going home.

Continue reading ‘Permanent Vacation’

Mary’s Land

Written by
L. John Ribar
on September 1, 2007 in Issue 1.09. 5 Comments
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (2 votes, average: 3.5 out of 5)
Loading ... Loading …

Seven ponies walked in a circle. Day after day, their existence was bleak. They could no longer remember much about growing up, or playing as little ponies with their friends and families. The only place they could find solace was in telling stories as they trudged around and around, carrying little children, listening to their laughter, licking up their spills.

“In Mary’s Land, there’s an ass named Teague. He has an island where the horses and ponies still run free,” said Splinter, the unofficial leader of the group.

“Let’s go!” said his best friend Shadow.

Continue reading ‘Mary’s Land’

How Many Stories

Written by
L. John Ribar
on August 25, 2007 in Issue 1.08. 3 Comments
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (4 votes, average: 3.25 out of 5)
Loading ... Loading …

Lizzie sat hunched over the computer, straining her eyes to read every word on the screen. The smell of bacon in the kitchen had been heavenly, but was giving way to a light covering of smoke. John ran into the kitchen, smelling the results of Lizzie’s concentration. “Hey!” he yelled.

“Oh, sorry. Can you flip that for me?”

He looked for the spatula, scrounging through all the right drawers until he found it in the wrong place at the end of the counter. He quickly removed the bacon from the pan, gauged whether it could be saved, and placed it face down in the pan to continue its brutal burn.

Continue reading ‘How Many Stories’

Mightier than the Sword

Written by
L. John Ribar
on August 18, 2007 in Issue 1.07. 5 Comments
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (4 votes, average: 4 out of 5)
Loading ... Loading …

Loud noises assaulted his senses. Bright flashing lights. His eyes weren’t even open, but he felt panic, terror. He struggled for recognition. Where was he? Concentrate. Think. Where was he?

Only a moment ago, he had been someplace he recognized. The living room? Yes, he had been watching TV. Okay, he must have fallen asleep. He was sitting down, his hands felt the velvety cloth beneath him. Was he in his recliner? If so, the remote would be close. He reached to the right, feeling for it, and found it right where he expected. Before opening his eyes, he turned off the source of the infernal noise.

He felt the blanket of darkness envelop and caress his senses. His eyes could have been open or closed now, the view would be the same. The silence was a welcome lover, enticing him back into the pleasures of sleep. He didn’t move, not yet. His nerves were still resting from the encounter with later night television.

Continue reading ‘Mightier than the Sword’

MayBelle

Written by
L. John Ribar
on August 10, 2007 in Issue 1.06. 5 Comments
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (4 votes, average: 3 out of 5)
Loading ... Loading …

Mabel looked at the alarm clock, trying to focus her eyes on the time. Her alarm, set for seven, wouldn’t go off for another two hours, but she couldn’t wait. She jumped out of bed and put on her shoes. She was so excited about her new job that…

Oops, shoes on the wrong feet. Her tiny feet slipped out of the pale yellow slippers. She adjusted them to the right locations, and started wiggling her toes back into them correctly.

Oh, no. Oops again. Forgot the clothes. My, this was going to be a long day. Better to start over.

Continue reading ‘MayBelle’

A Small Miscalculation

Written by
L. John Ribar
on August 3, 2007 in Issue 1.05. 4 Comments
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (5 votes, average: 3.2 out of 5)
Loading ... Loading …

“Jimmy!”

“What?”

“I think that the main slipstream, um, slipped.”

Jimmy turned a perplexed face to his brother. “Huh?”

“Didn’t you say we were going to the mountains?”

“Of course. Why?”

“Well, maybe you should look outside.”

It was dark out. At first, Jimmy couldn’t see anything. But he heard something unexpected. Waves. Right under the window. And that smell - something very fresh, like fresh… dead fish! The smell fishermen left at the dock after cleaning their catch. The smell of the stuff they threw back in.

This was definitely not the mountains!

Continue reading ‘A Small Miscalculation’