The impending eclipse got me thinking about how man has been affected over the years by eclipses. One reportedly stopped a war. I’m sure ancient man thought they were all going to die when the sky went dark in the middle of the day, too.

So, I decided I would write a short story to commemorate the event. And then asked some writer friends if they wanted to play along, too.

Here is what I have so far. Check back today and tomorrow as more writers send me their links.

Total Eclipse by Bart Hopkins

Ripping by Elizabeth Damewood Gaucher

The Things That Make For Peace by Loren Eaton

Our Sun Got Mooned by Patrick Newman

Eclipse By Connie Kinsey

The Curse By Kimberly Collins

Cliff was his own man

Ironically, I wrote the first draft of my story a week before I read this piece from The Atlantic, but the author seemed to have the same idea I did.

A submission for the call for Eclipse-themed short stories, by Kimberly Collins. Kim’s website is being overhauled and she asked me to share it for her. 

 

Alexis dared not tell her mother or grandmother she would be traveling to Sweetwater to photograph the solar eclipse on Monday. A superstition about eclipses—solar and lunar—had migrated down through four generations of her family. From a young age, her great-grandmother, her grandmother, her mother, and all her aunts had terrified her with warnings about the curse of the eclipse. Of course all of these warnings only served to make her more interested in all things lunar. She never felt more alive than during a full moon and new moons always held some special insight.

As a photographer, Alexis couldn’t pass up the opportunity to photograph the great American eclipse—and it was right in her back yard. She had convinced her cousins, Morgan and Kayla, to join her at the family farm in Sweetwater to view the event. The farm consisted of a three-room log cabin and fifty acres that had been in the family for years. There was a waterfall, a creek, a few cows, and a spectacular view of the mountains. And come Monday afternoon, a total solar eclipse.

~~~~~

Sunday morning, Morgan propped herself up on Alexis’ bed and watched her pack her photography equipment.

Alexis checked her packing list. “Two cameras; two tripods; extra batteries; solar lenses. What am I forgetting?”

“The sheet?”

“A sheet? I thought we were taking sleeping bags?” Kayla strode into Alexis’ bedroom and plopped down beside Morgan on the bed.

“She needs a white sheet to place on the ground to video the shadow snakes during the eclipse!” Morgan informed her.

“Shadow snakes? What in the world are you talking about?”

“Just before totality and just after, this crazy thing happens that looks like shadow snakes crawling on the ground.” Alexis said.

Morgan sat up on the bed and explained, “They’re actually shadow bands—not snakes. It has to do with the sun’s rays coming through the turbulence in the atmosphere. It looks like they’re jiggling, or in this case slithering. They’re basically a distortion of the sun’s final rays of sunlight beaming down through the atmosphere.”

“Well, all righty then. Always the scientist, Morgan.” Kayla said.

“Wow, you just took all the magic right out of it, Morgan. Thanks.” Alexis folded the white sheet.

“But wait, Alexis, you hate snakes.” Kayla said.

“It’s a love-hate relationship. I love them in art. I find them rather fascinating in theory. But a real snake will creep me out faster than anything. I’m not really sure how I’m going to react to seeing shadows slithering across this sheet.” Alexis patted the sheet and tucked it into her overnight bag.

“Morgan, are you taking a camera?” Kayla asked.

“No. I photograph dead people and crime scenes all day. I want to eat, drink, and be merry this weekend. This looks too much like work.” Morgan pointed to Alexis’ photography equipment.

“Well, you need to change out of your death investigator outfit. We need to hit the road soon or traffic is going to be a nightmare. Chop-chop.” Alexis clapped her hands.

Morgan pulled a t-shirt and shorts from her overnight bag. “Did either of you tell Grandma we’re going to watch the eclipse?”

Alexis zipped her camera bag and placed it by the door. “Are you crazy? She takes this curse stuff seriously.”

“So, what was in the letters you found in her attic last week?” Kayla asked Alexis.

“Apparently, our great grandmother’s sister, Elizabeth, ventured off to visit family in North Carolina for her nineteenth birthday on May 28, 1900.

“May 28^th? That’s my birthday!” Morgan exclaimed, pulling the t-shirt over her head.

“They watched the eclipse and had a birthday party for her. Everything was fine, until she woke up the next morning with strange bites on her neck, back, and arms. A little bit later, she was, by all accounts, crazy as a loon.”

“What bit her?” Kayla asked.

“They don’t know. Some say they looked like spider bites, but they were big.” Alexis said.

“Didn’t you say they sent her off to Northshore?” Morgan asked.

“Yes. Much later. She came back to Knoxville and spent a few months in the hospital. They thought the bites were infected. They got that all cleared up. Then her parents brought her home and she stayed in her bedroom for the next fifteen years. Never saying another word.”

“How did she end up in the psych hospital?”

“After her parents died, there was no one to care for her, so the family sent her to Northshore psychiatric hospital. Where she eventually died at the age of one hundred and one.”

“That’s crazy. Like really crazy. How many letters did you find?” Kayla asked.

“There were dozens of them, spanning fifty years.”

Morgan pulled her hair back into a ponytail. “Well, there are a number of things that bring on psychosis. She possibly presented with schizophrenia. She was at the right age. She could have been bitten by some exotic spider that triggered temporary psychosis. There are lots of explanations—the eclipse not being one of them.”

~~~~~

Alexis was up early Monday morning scouting out the best viewing spot. She spread the sheet on the ground and placed rocks on the corners to keep the wind from carrying it away. After setting up her tripods, she went back inside for coffee and breakfast.

“Ready for those snakes?” Kayla asked.

“Funny girl!” Alexis buttered a croissant. “I found our spot. Now, we wait.” She poured a cup of coffee and joined Morgan on the front porch.

The girls packed lunch and headed to their viewing area. It was a beautiful warm day. The sky was crystal blue.

“You want a glass of wine?” Kayla asked.

“Not yet. I need to be on my game today. Definitely, after the eclipse. I will take one of those sandwiches, though!” Alexis joined Morgan and Kayla on the quilt, beside the sheet.

“What if the eclipse curse is true? What if there’s some crazy thing that happens and we all three lose our minds?” Morgan poured a glass of wine.

“Does anyone know where we are? I certainly didn’t tell my mother.” Kayla said.

“I didn’t tell anyone.” Morgan said.

“Me either.” Alexis chimed in. “I was afraid it would get back to Grandma.”

“Great. So, we could get eaten alive by this eclipse thing and go stark raving mad, and nobody even knows where we are.” Kayla nibbled on a slice of cheese.

“Well, if it does bite you two, that’s one way to shut you up.” Morgan said.

Kayla threw a wine cork at Morgan’s head.

Alexis checked her watch. “The witching hour approaches.”

Alexis had one camera aimed at the sheets to video the shadow snakes. It was set to run for the duration of the event. The other camera, focused on the sun, had a remote shutter release and was for still photos.

The girls donned their viewing glasses; it was time.

The moon crept into view and slid over the sun. Inch by inch. At first it was nothing significant. The girls chatted casually, Morgan and Kayla sipping their wine.

Then daylight gradually faded; the girls fell silent. The birds stopped singing. An eerie silence engulfed the mountaintop. The sky darkened, the temperature dropped, and the girls were in total darkness. Only the sun’s corona was visible.

Alexis kept clicking her remote shutter release. The video camera kept running.

As the moon moved on, shreds of light appeared behind its shadow and the diamond ring appeared. All three girls gasped at the magnificence.

The diamond ring gently faded away and Alexis saw something move out of the corner of her eye. She looked at the white sheet. And there they were. The shadow snakes. She could barely breathe. The other two girls noticed her movement and looked at the sheet.

“Did you see them?” Alexis said.

“They looked like real snakes.” Morgan said.

“Creepy.” Kayla shuttered.

“I’ll have that glass of wine now.” Alexis announced.

Alexis clicked through a few of the photos on the camera. “I have so many. We can look at them later tonight back at the cabin. And the video! I can’t wait to see the snakes!” She placed the cameras in the bag, leaving the bag unzipped and lying on the sheet.

She returned to the quilt and her glass of chardonnay. The girls sipped their wine and discussed the eclipse. The birds began to sing again.

A gentle breeze ruffled the white sheet, as a shadow snake slithered into Alexis’ unzipped camera bag. It coiled around her zoom lens. And waited.

The following is an excerpt from the Mike Scott thriller Return to Cayman: Paradise Held Hostage.

###

“Michael,” Frankie said, breaking the silence. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m trying to figure out the best way to get a look inside the building and see what’s going on,” Mike said. He tore his eyes away from the warehouse to face Frankie. “I need to figure out how many people are in there. How many bad guys and how many people are being held captive. We know about Matt and Trina. And we can assume Bill and the two girls he was with; Miranda and Sherri. That’s a lot of people to watch. Unless Jay has a big team, it will be difficult to keep them all under control. I need to know how they’re keeping them captive and what they’re doing.”

“I can help.”

“Frankie, listen, I’ve done this sort of thing before. You haven’t. I can’t let you risk it.”

“I don’t recall giving you that choice. If you remember, we’ve been through this sort of thing together. We confronted a mad man with a gun. And then a couple more mad men. And a couple more after that.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “I think I handled myself pretty well. I’m going to help.”

Mike looked at Frankie and saw the steely determination in her eyes. He was about to argue, when she gave him a final look that told him he was going to lose.

“I know you want to protect everyone. You want to save everyone else, no matter what it does to you. I get it. It’s in your DNA. But no one asked you to be the hero. At least not all the time. We’re all here to help you.”

Mike laughed.

“All right, Dr. DeMarco, what do you have in mind?”

“Well, there is no reason to be that way,” she grinned. “And frankly, my idea has a lot less to do with me being Dr. DeMarco and a lot more to do with me being Frankie, the Italian tourist.”

Frankie quickly sketched out her idea. The men working for Jay and guarding their friends were, after all, men. Although Frankie did very little to accentuate her own physical attractiveness, she wasn’t completely oblivious to the effect she had on men, especially men who thought of women more as possessions than people. She was making an assumption, but the rough look of the men working for Jay told her that they weren’t the kind who liked long walks and talking about their feelings.

“So, I’ll go play the lost tourist looking for the party in the warehouse. Sort of a rave or something. That should give you time to look around and see what’s going on.”

“Can’t say I’m thrilled about dangling you in front of wolves, but that should work. I shouldn’t need a lot of time. Just be careful. Please.”

“Michael, you would almost make a girl think you care.”

Mike growled in mock frustration.

Frankie hopped out of the jeep to get ready. She was wearing shorts and a t-shirt already. There wasn’t much she could do with her clothes. But this was a tropical island. And the more skin, the better. Frankie was wearing her hair in a pony tail, so she let her long black hair out and shook it out so it flowed down around her shoulders. She pulled her shorts up, folding the waist line down over itself, showing off more of her long, tanned legs. Then she took the pony tail holder and tied off her t-shirt at her hip. That had the double bonus of pulling the shirt down and showing off a bit more cleavage while exposing a hint of her flat, toned stomach. From her bag, she pulled out some lipstick and gave her lips some highlights.

“What do you think?” she asked Mike with a smile that said she knew exactly what his reaction would be.

“I, umm, wow. That’s about all I got,” Mike said. He looked her up and down. “I see how this plan might just work.”

“Might? Really, Mike? Might?”

“Okay, I’m sure it will work. Getting you away from there might be the problem,” Mike said with a laugh.

“Don’t you worry about that. We women have our ways,” Frankie said. “You spent all of your time watching me. Do you know how you are going to sneak in there and get a look around?”

“That much I got covered,” Mike said. He turned his attention, regretfully, back to the warehouse and the matter at hand. “But we might just have to discuss you and this look again later.”

“Why, Michael, I’m afraid I don’t have a clue what is on your mind.”

“Yeah, right.”

###

Get your copy of Return to Cayman: Paradise Held Hostage today, in softcover or Kindle. It is also part of the Mike Scott Boxed Set that includes the first five novels and two short stories.

A few years ago, my friend Jean Hanna Davis invited me to sit with her while she took chemotherapy for breast cancer. It was her second go-round, almost exactly 10 years after her first.

She didn’t want me to hold her hand or anything like that. She wanted my help writing a book. We recorded our conversations and, along with her notes and journal entries, those interviews became Keep on, Keepin’ on: A Breast Cancer Survivor Story.

Jean is a strong, optimistic person, but the book isn’t all sunshine and roses. Jean gets tired, feels sick and struggles. It is a raw, mostly unfiltered look at the process. Anyone, especially people who have just gotten a diagnosis of breast cancer, should read Jean’s story.

Jean has a love/hate relationship with Breast Cancer Awareness Month. She talks about that in the book. And that’s okay. To close out the October, we have decided to make the Kindle version of Keep on, Keepin’ on FREE to download. You don’t have to do anything special. Just go to Amazon and get your copy.

I don’t like “awareness” games or Facebook posts that don’t do anything for women who are struggling with breast cancer. If you want to do something that takes only a minimum of effort, share this post with the world. Help us give away thousands of copies of the book and help women who have breast cancer to gain some strength and understanding from Jean’s experiences.