Reminiscing #FalseKeyRocks

Wow, it's been 8 years since my first publication in South of Sundown. It was fun rereading this story from that anthology. Enjoy! 

#FalseKeyRocks

by Brian Bohmueller

The sun eased into the ocean’s horizon. Some might contend such an observation was inspired by a geocentric frame of reference and reinforced by millennia of convergent storytelling. Others, schooled in modern astronomy with an awe toward real world physics, might relate instead that the Earth’s shadow terminus approached with speed from anti-spinward.  Either way, the result was the same; the transition from day to night had begun at False Key.   

As dusk seeped ashore on the remote and rocky beach of False Key’s western most point,  a gathering of figures assembled.  It wouldn’t be unusual for a beach party to start so late in the afternoon. The evidence seemed to favor this premise, given the makings of a bonfire at their conversational center. Then again, perspective is everything; a mosquito that dared fly close enough might assess that a junta of extraordinary creatures wearing human glamours had in truth gathered.

Swack!

“Who has the damn bug spray?” Mike complained, wiping the bloody carcass of a monstrous mosquito, now mangled and flattened, to the sandy ground.  Mike left the meteor streak of blood drying on his rather flabby, pale arm in favor of catching the bottle of DEET-Tastic tossed to him.

“Shoulda sprayed earlier, ya wanker!” Soucray chastised, her voice a new age rapper’s sampled mix of seashell echoes.

“It is finaleee sunset. Can weeee get on with theees?” Bha’ ja whined impatiently while scratching at the scalp beneath her short-cropped gray and black coiff.

“Notta chance, until da last of da eight arrive.” voiced Soucray. “Saiphon...will be da last.”

The obsidian skinned man on Soucray’s right bellowed, “You have called in a lot of favors for us to wander in human guise this day, Soucray.  Best you not hold us here longer than prudent.”  His sparkling eyes impaled Soucray with a gaze of accountability.

Indeed, Soucray had invoked her one-time right to unify the power of many demesnes this Summer Solstice eve. To power her incantation she had tasked those present to take human form this day and discover, steal, or otherwise obtain human painted rocks from the inaugural False Key Rock Festival. The festival celebrated the viral meme of the moment, art abandonment in the form of custom painted river rocks left for others to find in the wild. Whether left on hiking trails, in cafes, or any other place  a human might stumble serendipitously, these objects were meant to be selfless joyful gifts. The rocks painted at this festival in particular harbored a uniquely mystical energy. And each was conveniently labeled by their creators on their reverse with the rune-like hashtag “#FalseKeyRocks.”  With these special stones collected by her peers Soucray would appeal to the Universe for a boon. 

Soucray replied to the group’s impatience, “We wait fer Saiphon. Widdout him dis ritual be bound to fail. In seven dair is indeed mystery and strength. By heaven’s need, in eight dair can be an undertaking uv real power.”

“Your ritual is teeedious...” began Bha’ ja only to be interrupted by a sudden roar. A large swell had crashed high on the coquina outcropping upon which the circle of seven sat. The swell broke ferociously on the craggy limestone causing an eruption of radiant orange globules to defy gravity.  As if summoned by this intermixing of elements, a creature the size of an elephant seal waddled in several hopping lopes through the retreating ocean foam and onto the coquina platform to join the circle.

In actuality, Saiphon was indeed an elephant seal, and simultaneously the physical incarnation representing the Deep Sea demesne. Having disposed of his human guise already he announced his presence with a pointed two-tone bark. Saiphon’s towering silhouette seemed quite at odds with the human forms present.

“Very well, Saiphon,” answered Soucray. “Welkum den. Jus’ be aware dat ye be da last. And yes, da rest uh ye can shed yer human skins if ye like. Your day among da humans collecting stones is at its end.”

Saiphon barked again and the seven other ostensibly human creatures melted into shadow, shifting into forms that were aligned with their true natures. In the fading grays of twilight the pile of wood at their center writhed fluidly and sprouted toward the starry sky. The amorphous sapling continued to grow and twist as its thickening trunk spiraled into a great wooden loop, all while extruding branches of needles and pinecones that aged and shriveled with such speed time itself shuddered.

Beneath the now towering loop of tree Soucray proclaimed, “Zen let us begin. Each uv us shall profess da name given ye and da demaine ye dun represent. Den put da two stones you ahv acquired in da circle ‘round da portal tree jus’ as I do.”

The shortest of pauses followed before the incantation proper began.

“I be Soucriante’ known to me peoples as Ole-higue. I be uv da Elder demaine and deez be da stones I awfuh.”

Soucray’s hand extended to the tree’s periphery, a hand whose skin resembled more the pinebark than human skin. Her naked torso, though humanoid, had the texture of wizened driftwood, cracked and bleached from toe to breast to brow. She placed her two stones upside down displaying the rune-like lettering “#FalseKeyRocks” on each. Then as if the offering to the tree had been accepted each stone flipped to its more artistic side. The first stone depicted the two dominant orbs of the sky in opposition: Sol and Luna, while the second portrayed a blueish heptapod, adroitly painted by the artist to resemble a sea star spinning like a galaxy in starry space. Each stone glowed dimly with its acceptance.

Soucray nodded to her right and without pause the deep voice of the obsidian man continued the incantation. “I am Phosh-an Aswol of the domain Night and these are the two stones I retrieved from the mortals today.”

Two stones glided from within the pool of darkness that hung in the air where the obsidian man had sat a minute before. The floating stones turned slowly end over end landing softly and precisely at the tree’s base. Each “#FalseKeyRocks” emblem sat exposed for a second, then as if on cue, flipped together revealing a glossy depiction of Mercury next to an oblong rock dabbed with seven blue blotches, each blotch embossed with a wavy black glyph.

Around the circle the ritual proceeded. Leptos, Vangeaux Quetz Kubilay and Dimmel reporting in for the domains of Stellar Origin, Whimsey and Eternally Broken Things.  Each stone, after being placed adjacent to the tree flipped silently from its “#FalseKeyRocks” side to the side decorated by human hands.  In sequence, a golden pentacle, a bouquet of six roses, the planet Venus, a cartoon octopus, a blue-green Earth, and a single candle were revealed. As each stone was placed the glow emanating from each increased at the tree’s base.

Bha’ ja, now in striped bobcat form, leaped down from her driftwood perch and approached the center, dropping her two rocks from her jaw with impatience. Disregard notwithstanding, they both landed exactly in the spots apportioned for them.

“I am Bha’ ja of the domain Predator and present these stones,” purred the feline in a vibrant tone that lacked her earlier whininess, yet still managed to convey impudence.

A silence descended upon the evening’s quiet that had been punctuated by rolling surf and ritual words. Those who had eyes, raised their brows, as each noted the new stones had not flipped over. Unlike the other stones this one read “#MartinCountyRocks.”

Bha’ ja who had regained her perch on the driftwood log turned toward the silence of the circle and interjected with an annoyed growl, “Whaaattttt!?”

“Da offering ye gave is failed, Bha’ ja. You be now da last,” Soucray coldly pronounced. “On da honor of yer demaine, silence to ye, cat. Now, let us continue da incantation.”

Bha’ ja froze where she stood quite literally; her eyes, mouth and every last hair on her hide stood unnaturally still like a mosquito frozen in amber. Mike’s palpable gulp and sideways glance at Bha’ ja didn’t slow his quick retrieval of stones with a clack from a pocket of his soiled and torn shorts. The only human form now in the group, Mike stepped forward and placed his stones with extra care before the tree.  Both read “#FalseKeyRocks” and Mike exhaled relief before choking out his scripted line.

“I’m Mike of the Homeless by Choice and I give these stones to the circle.” Both stones then flipped revealing Mars and Jupiter rendered in swirls of acrylic color.

Saiphon next waddled forward to the tree at their center. He promptly vomited forth an acrid pool that reeked of digested fish containing the two stones he had held in reserve. Defying probability they landed squarely and wetly beside the tree finishing the circle of stones.  The “#FalseKeyRocks” moniker showed true and in turn flipped, one revealing the ringed planet Saturn and the other painted with three blood red crosses which seemed to convey the brutality of crucifixion --  that or a child’s rendition of tic-tac-toe.

Artistic clarity notwithstanding, the completed circle of stones glowed intensely like fiery coals from volcanic depths. Flames whooshed at their center, then swiftly ran up the ceremonial tree, looping around the tree trunk and throughout the branches and needles. Engulfed by mystical flame, the faux bonfire actually radiated coldness,  giving off no smoke whatsoever.

Soucray raised her hands to the tall fiery tree and exclaimed “Wit’ deez offerings, we submit to da Universe our respect en trust. En we submit da sacrifice of da last, tuh show we understand da seriousness of what we ask.”

Bha’ja’s eyes might have gone wide if they hadn’t been frozen wide already. Tendrils of fire from the tree snaked across the ground to the unmoving bobcat form, twining its form in fiery vines. The vines then retracted the feline, now afire,  with a savoring pace back to merge with the tree’s fiery trunk. The whole tree erupted into a forty foot high inferno that lit the beachhead as if it were day. The tower of flame settled down leaving the vertical loop of the tree trunk afire, fueled by the energy of the stones and sacrifice.

With a hesitation she sought to conceal, Soucray approached the flaming loop and addressed that maw of fire directly. “We ahv served da Universe fer many rotations en revolutions come en gone, en we will do so fer doze yet tuh come, still it remain unclear on how dun best tuh serve.”  

Then, raising her voice in a crescendo that echoed off the fire itself Soucray let loose her emboldened query. “In da names of duh demaines here represented, we ask dat ye show us da true nature of our creators so dat we may better fulfill our destinies!”

The tree’s radiance surged as if in reproach, but within the loop the fire receded, replaced by a window that opened into a foreign realm. The remaining six came as close as they dared to the tree to get a glimpse of the scene within the portal.

Therein shadowy figures could be seen moving about in a harshly lit interior room. Each was human by all appearances and many were sitting at low tables with steaming drinks in the foreground. Central to the scene a metallic stalk stood silvery with a single bulbous, black flower atop.  A figure in flowing green cloth and spectacles of wisdom confronted the black bloom, tapping it twice resulting in two loud thuds and a banshee shriek. The woman’s voice invoked powerfully, “Can we turn the amp down a bit? Thanks. My name is Serena Schreiber, and we want to welcome you to our monthly Howl at the Moon event!  We have several writers here tonight that will be sharing some of their stories, tales crafted to enchant and entertain, and each takes place in the imagined world of False Key…”

The audience present in the cafe, plus seven, watched to see what might unfold.