The Wall

Samerson's Wall

The Praying Mantis Monastery Murder

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Lee E. Shilo

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedication

This book has taken over ten years to complete. With confidence and determination, it is now finished. I want to dedicate this to my beautiful and devoted wife Elisabeth, who stuck by me through thick and thin until it was completed.

Acknowledgments

Thanks to my wife Elisabeth I. Shilo, for her many years of support and encouragement. Thanks to my good friend Dr. Michael L. for his scientific observations. Thanks to my good friend Thomas S. for his insightful inspirations. Thanks to all the people close to me who have inspired the many wonderful characters in this book.

The Praying Mantis Monastery Murder

Chapter I

We met in an old part of China Town on a street called Antique Row. Doris Knight my girlfriend, took me to a place called Mister Ming’s Antique Emporium and Curios Shop. She pointed at an object from outside the window and said it was my happy eighteenth birthday present. I did not quite know what to make of it. The object looked like some sort of rock. Doris asked me to wait outside while she went inside the shop to purchase it. She was one month older than I was and liked to remind me jokingly that she was the older woman.

She was an inch or so shorter than I was, with short black hair and large wide blue eyes with eyelashes that went on forever. She had an olive complexion, just like mine. Her smile lit up my life and her personality was light, but firm and grounded, unlike me with my head in the clouds half of the time. After a long wait, she finally came back out with my birthday present in hand.

I'm sorry to keep you waiting so long Samerson, she said excitedly with a smile, but I needed Mister Ming to make it into a necklace for you. Handing the necklace to me she continued, Mister Ming told me it was what you call a Rune Stone piece and that it is very old and rare.

It looked like a small-wedged shape piece of uneven stone, with some strange, cryptic markings on it. With a smile, I gave Doris a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Thank you Doris, I said while letting her put it around my neck. This is a great present.

Your welcome, Mister Ming called it a piece of lucky Rune Stone.

Doris and I carried on to the theater to watch a midday matinee. We spent the rest of the day meeting with friends and visiting our usual favorite places. That night, alone on my bed, I pondered my piece of Rune Stone over, and over in my mind. It was the days of summer once again and school holidays were in full swing. My mom and dad told me that I should enjoy them as much as I could, because next summer I would have to look into getting employment. Well, if this was to be my last great summer, I was going to make it a good one and vowed to find the secret of the Rune Stones.

Morning came, and I walked down to Mister Ming’s Antique Emporium and Curios Shop. The outside of the shop was painted deep oriental red, with embroidered green and gold around the edges. It sported a big bay window, with thatched smaller windows on each side. Through this large window, one could view an odd collection of antiques and some questionable curios of dubious design.

Inside, the lighting was so bad that no one could see in much further than the window display. The entrance was a small unassuming wooden red door with green trim and a dragon-head, brass door handle, with a homemade cardboard hand written open sign hanging from it. The doorknob turned loosely in my hand as I entered. A little bell above the door jingled as I opened and closed it. Other than hearing that, the place was as quiet and dark as a mausoleum.

It was a labyrinth of bookshelves, with counter tops filled to capacity and strange articles hanging from the ceiling. The odd shaft of light caught every speck of dust that floated past in the air. The walls looked gray, but there was not enough light to tell for sure. The floorboards were old and uneven and they creaked as I walked on them. I tried to walk softly, as to avoid the creaking, but to no avail. Some portions of the floor did though have some patches of old, thinly worn out throw rugs. They were designed as insidious booby-traps, to ensnare and trip any unsuspecting looky-lou’s, I am sure of it. The whole store wreaked of musk, mold and stale air; the well-known smell of old. All of the unseen book-dust, almost immediately started to chap my lips and my eyes strained to make out imaginary figures, lurking in the even more darkened, hidden corners.

Sitting on a tabletop, where I had just finished untangling from one of the hell rugs was a large pickle jar filled with amber fluid and something else floating in it that I could not make out. The only reason I noticed it was because an errant shaft of light was shining right on it.

As I was examining the specimen, I kept feeling faint wisps of air moving from behind me. A small rush of air blew on the back of my head and made the hairs on my neck stand up like porcupine quills. Every time it happened, I would quickly turn around to see if there was anyone there, but no one ever was. Then, as if out of the folds of nowhere, Mister Ming appeared.

I did not notice him at first until he spoke. Can I help you young man?

His voice was so unexpected that it made me jump back. I could not tell in which direction it was coming from. I turned my head quickly around behind me, but no one was there. When I turned my head back, he was looming directly in front of me. I jumped again and involuntarily gulped so hard that even Mister Ming must have heard it. I was thinking about just turning around and running, but something inexplicably held me in place.

Mister Ming, as you may have guessed, was oriental. He was a tall, thin man, with pure white long hair and an angular head that sported a long straight white mustache and goatee. I guess his most distinguishing feature was his eyes; one blue and the other green. He wore a bright red silk top with green embroidered dragons on it. The collar was of trimmed gold wire and the sleeves were large and loose hanging. This only served to accentuate his aged hands. His bony fingers were extraordinarily long, with fingernails that could rival a large feline’s claws. Each individual finger sported a ring of distinction and even his thumbs had rings on them. In his presence, I could smell the odor of sweet, pleasant roses. An errant shaft of light that hit him engulfed his whole body by a halo of golden hued light. He had no accent to speak of and spoke perfect English.

His voice was low and soft, but deliberate in his pronunciations. I showed him the Rune Stone piece that Doris had bought me and asked if he had any more. Mister Ming admitted to possessing two more such pieces, but that only one was for sale. It seemed odd to me at the time, but I do not think I could have bought the second piece anyway. Spending all the money I had received for my birthday from my parents, I purchased my second piece of Rune Stone.

So what are you going to do with your second piece of Rune Stone young man? He asked, squinting

his eyes and leaning forward on the counter towards me.

Well, I have a theory, I confided to Mister Ming. I think that all these Rune Stones fit together like a puzzle to become one complete larger Rune Stone. I continued.

As I was inspecting the second piece that I had just purchased. Mister Ming put one hand up and stroked his goatee as he watched me, then slyly said, hmm, that is very interesting. You must come and show me if you find any other pieces. I would be interested in looking at them and helping you in your theory.

I felt a small twinge of distrust pulse through my body, just after hearing that. I thanked Mister Ming and continued on my way to the public library. This second stone piece was also uneven and wedge-shaped, but did not fit together with the other one that Doris had bought me. I was confident that if I collected enough of them, they would have the information I was seeking. The library was disappointing and held very little information on the subject of Rune Stones, but regardless, I kept looking.

It did however; provide a Rune Stone alphabet and their translations in English. This alphabet, was comprised of twenty-four letters, ours has twenty-six. It did not have a letter for (W) or (Q) but I was sure I could substitute them if I had to. I made a copy of the alphabet and returned home to examine my two pieces.

The original piece Doris bought me, and had made into a necklace, spelled out (vegg), with the letter (G) beneath it. The other piece, which I had purchased, spelled the word (inn) with the letter (D) underneath. Though they did not fit together, I felt that I was on the right track. This runic alphabet was helping quite a bit. The words 'inn' and 'vegg', which I had already deciphered from the stones, gave me great hope that indeed these were the Rune Stones I was looking for. By their shape, I had determined that the final structure of the puzzle would most probably be disc shaped.

Mister Ming had not been much help, but at least I knew he was keeping one piece of the puzzle. I figured by the shape and size, that two or even three more stones had to be found. These, included with Mister Ming's and mine, would make a total of five or six stones altogether. The following day I called on Doris at her home.

Hi Doris, how would you like to help me find more Rune Stone pieces like the one you bought me?

She smiled and grabbed a light jacket as she replied in a cheerful voice, sure, I think Mister Ming still has some left, but they cost a bit of money.

Well, um, you see I've already purchased the rest of what he had; I was hoping you might know of some other places we could try?

Why Samerson Albert Midsummer, you're not supposed to know how much a person spends on a gift for you! Why now I feel totally embarrassed.

Doris, I still don't know how much you spent on me. I only know how much Mister Ming charged me, for the second piece of Rune Stone. So you see, you don't have to be mad at me anymore. Please!

She crossed her arms and looked at me sternly. Her lower lip was pouting but slowly turned into a smile as she relented.

Well okay, I'll accept that explanation for now.

Off we went in search of more Rune Stone pieces. We tried most of the stores on Antique Row, used goods and junk stores as well, but still nothing. It was nearing the end of the day and it began to rain heavily. We spotted an overhanging roof from one of the shops, so we quickly dashed for cover and waited out the flash storm. The rain generally only lasted maybe ten or twenty minutes before the sun appeared again and dried everything out. I stood with my hands in my pockets, staring at the droplets falling off the roof. Where the droplets landed grew an ever-growing puddle.

Every drop pushed more sludge away from the bottom of this, miniature lake. A familiar form slowly began to take shape with every drop that fell. I started staring intently at it as every new layer of sludge washed off, bringing it closer to the surface. Doris and I both stood for a moment staring at it in disbelief, with our mouths hanging open in utter shock and amazement.

It was another piece of Rune Stone. She bent down, picked it up and wiped it off with a handkerchief, before presenting it to me like it was a piece of rare gold. This was the third piece of Rune Stone, not including the one Mister Ming kept. I had forgotten both of my other stones at home, so we hurried back to check to see if it fit with any of them. We were in luck! The new piece of stone fit to the right side of the one I wore as a necklace.

When we deciphered it, we found the word 'liten' on it. The two pieces together spelled (vegg liten) or the wall of small. This was of course, only my expert explanation and probably just wishful thinking at best. I was at least impressing Doris with my Rune Stone translations. The piece I bought earlier spelled 'inn', so maybe it all spelled 'in the wall of small or at least that is what I was hoping. Poor Doris still did not have any idea what I was up to or why I was so preoccupied. I really did not feel that she would have understand or even believed me anyway. When the proper time came, I would probably be able to show her instead of trying to explain it. Doris departed for home and I was late for supper. That night I had a fitful sleep, tossing and turning, dreaming of the thousands of Rune Stones I had to decipher.

I woke up tired and really needed more sleep, but I just could not waste the day away. In the Rune Stone book from the library, it mentioned other fine books including one called Runic Lore by a Mister Low Ming. I wondered if this same Mister Ming was the owner of the Emporium shop. I decided to take the book with me to show Mister Ming. When I arrived at Mister Ming's Antique Emporium and Curios shop, he was just opening up.

Good morning Samerson.

I was surprised that he recognized me and even more surprised that he remembered my name, as I replied a little mystified, good morning Mister Ming.

Please come in. I must go into the back for a moment, but I will be right back.

Mister Ming took a lot longer than expected, so I jumped at the opportunity to look about. I really had not taken the time to appreciate all of the fine antiques and curios he had procured through the years. There were objects I could not explain and things I did not understand. I found an old ragged, dusty book that looked a lot like the one described in my library book. I picked it up and turned quickly around to go to the counter and read it. As I turned around, Mister Ming appeared suddenly right in front of me, as if out of nowhere. I almost bumped right into him.

Find something interesting Samerson?

I quickly took a few steps back, as I explained with a slight tremble in my voice, Oh, uh, I was just taking this book to the counter to read some of it.

That is very interesting Samerson. You happened to pick up the one and only book I ever wrote. It was never a big seller.

Doris always thought Mister Ming was quite charming, but to me, something about him was a little bit off, and I did not totally trust him.

I wrote this book long ago, since before you were born most likely. Not many people are interested in Runic Lore. Why are you so interested Samerson?

I pulled out the library book and showed him the back cover where it had other recommended books and their authors. Mister Ming’s book and name was the third one down the list. Taking the library book gently from my hands, he sadly pondered it for some time. With an even more saddened look on his face, he handed the book back. I could not help but feel sorry for him, as a streak of guilt crept through me.

Are you interested in buying my old discontinued book Samerson? He asked with a touch of indifference in his voice.

Well no, actually I wanted to talk to you more about the Rune Stones. You obviously know more than you're letting on. It's almost like you are hiding something? I asked pensively.

Mister Ming seemed slightly perturbed as he answered, you are a very pretentious young man, do you know that?!

He snatched the old book out of my hands and placed it back where it belonged.

I'm sorry Mister Ming. I didn’t mean to be so rude or upset you in any way. It's just that I'm desperate. I have to get back to within the wall, I blurted out before realizing my mistake.

Mister Ming spun back around to face me. In a shock he asked, what did you just say?!

Adventures at Moss Park

Chapter II

It was then that I began to remember; and think back to the first time I visited the wall. It seemed like I was always getting into trouble for one thing or another in my life and school was not any different. I was attending Pacific Heights School, the one-and-only school in my hometown of Edgewood. It held grades one through twelve all in the same building. I would always be caught, for passing notes, talking, or just looking out the window daydreaming and I did a lot of daydreaming. It all started with my teacher Miss Percivale’s favorite punishment on the days I misbehaved. She would have me stand outside the classroom window facing the schools brick wall of the adjoining extension to our classroom. There she could keep a close eye on me. That day was one of those days.

Samerson! a distant voice was calling my name. Samerson Albert Midsummer, pay attention please! the voice said again, louder this time and was followed by a loud rap of a wooden pointer hitting her desk.

Yes I know, the initials of my name spell S.A.M., a shortened version of Samerson and it had ceased being funny the first thousand times I heard it. That is why I always insisted on being called Samerson, and not Sam! That did it; the loud rap snapped me back to reality, as I found myself bashfully trying to mutter an excuse for not paying attention. I had been caught day dreaming once again and she was sending me outside to face the brick wall to think about my behavior.

Miss Percivale was a tall, slender woman with fair skin. She kept her yellowing hair up in a tight bun at the back of her neck and sported wire rim eyeglasses that made her blue eyes seem small and piercing. Her overdrawn lipstick was brilliant red, to match her glowing red fingernails and each time she bent down to talk to one of her students, her sickly sweet breath would darn near put them into a sugar coma. When she spoke, her voice sounded like a witch’s cackle and her heavy, boot-like shoes made a distinct and irritating clomping sound as she walked. It reminded me of horses clomping about. She wore a black plaid skirt with black knee-high socks and a white satin shirt underneath her old and worn out dark, green sweater.

To her students, she looked like she was a million years old, but she was really only about forty or so. Miss Percivale always carried a rubber tipped, wooden pointer in her hands. She used it to point menacingly or to smack down on the desktop of some poor unsuspecting student, to get their attention. It was not that she was intentionally mean. Miss Percivale was simply indifferent to the age of wonderment that her young students were experiencing.

It was a hot, bright summer afternoon and once again, I found myself standing in front of the brick wall. It was the third time in a week that my teacher had put me in detention. My eyes darted back and forth across the all-too-familiar brick wall, as I tried to concentrate on standing still and behaving.

I did not want Miss Percivale to think that I was not taking her seriously. I tried thinking about the morning’s lessons and my studies, but soon found my mind wandering in other directions as it often did. The sun was hot and beating down on the back of my neck and shoulders and I found it extremely difficult to concentrate on any one topic for very long.

Having only the brick wall to stare at, my eyes started to feel a little fuzzy, as I continued to daydream about all sorts of weird and wondrous things. It seemed like the wall was beginning to pull at me. I could see the surface textures and all the small bits and particles of dust. Mysterious shadows played between the streaks of green moss and mud splatters that were stuck on the brick. If I crossed my eyes a little, I could almost make out what looked to me like, faces. I stared deep into the smallest crevices wondering what might be living there, in the unseen and unknown world. My imagination tugged at me. I continued to look deep into the wall until everything else seemed to slowly fade away and disappear. Dizziness slowly crept over my body and gradually engulfed me. The bricks soon started to move in a swirl, like water going down a drain. The wall seemed to be pulling at me harder and harder. I felt my body getting smaller and the wall growing larger. After what seemed like a long, slide downward, the swirling and dizziness began to subside. When it finally stopped, my eyes began to refocus. I noticed that something seemed very different.

I was no longer standing in front of the brick wall, but found myself instead, in a strange and unknown landscape. I could not recall how I got there, but felt chillingly intrigued by my new surroundings and eager to find out where I was. This new and magical, microscopic life on and within the brick and cement on the wall, appealed to my sense of adventure. I noticed that I was standing on a dirt path, with a signpost in front of me that read, Moss Park.

It was a most pleasing and inviting trail and even though I was a little nervous, I could not resist the urge to explore what lay ahead of me. As I slowly walked into a new, unfamiliar landscape, the trail began to gently curve and gradually led beneath a canopied covering. Strange shaped trees, or what looked like trees, cast soothing shadows that soaked up the underbrush and hid anything that might be living or hiding there. Beyond the canopy I could see a beautiful moss green meadow and in the distance, a large green hill, with the grass growing in an odd downward direction.

I spotted some wonderful flying insects, which resembled butterflies and could hear the chirping of what sounded like exotic songbirds all around me. I continued walking down the path, inspecting everything and wondering where it would lead. I eventually stopped to pause and gaze in wonderment, at the richness of colors all around me. I never realized just how many shades of green could actually exist in one place. Everything appeared so crystal-clear and clean. I walked on until I began to get tired and stopped to sit down on a rock to rest.

Shrubbery, a shrubbery, I must find a shrubbery! I heard a strange voice call out.

I heard a voice, but could not quite believe it! A short distance from where I sat, someone was babbling and ranting on, about having to find a shrubbery. Feeling a little afraid and overwhelmed, I looked around me for a place to hide, but there was none. I certainly did not want to confront a raving luney! I stood up and made a quick getaway, trekking on until the path split off in two directions. I gratefully took the new path to the left, which