Sometimes I Speak In Tongues And Here There Be Monsters

*** continued from previous post ***

After they'd gone Mom and I sat alone at the table, marveling at the beauty of the mountains and the setting and thoroughly enjoying our tea and coffee. Especially since everyone else had scampered off to do whatever it was they had planned for the day.

Let's see if I could pull off this next bit with a straight face.

"So," I said, after a few measured beats, "what's up with the paranormal dogs?"

"What?"

"You know," I said, "the Kirlian Bear Dogs. What's up with that?"

"Honey, what are you talking about?"

"You know, the guy whose going to give the talk tonight. The Kirlian Bear Dogs."

Nothing. Blank stare. Not a hint of recognition on your mom's face. It was as if she had no understanding of what I was saying. There are times, not many, but a few when I wonder what happened to the woman I married. To discover such a basic deficiency in her Scientia of Occultus made me sad. Plus, it ruined the joke. Which was much more important. I could see it was going to be a long trip for a short bit of humor but I had nothing else to do at the moment.

"Kirlian. Kirlian Photography. Now, how dogs do it, and how it relates to bears is a mystery. And one that I'm eager to solve."

"Okay," Mom said, "I'll bite. What is Kirlian Photography?"

“Surely, mon petite livre, you jest. How long have you lived with me now?"

Mom calculated in her head. "Thirty-two years. Did you just call me your 'little book'?"

"Possibly. Sometimes I speak in tongues. Back to the point. Have you paid me no attention in all that time?"

"Sweetie," she said, and put her arm around my shoulders, "I tend to scan if you know what I mean. I do listen. But after a while. . . ." she let her voice trail.

I thought about that for a minute. I started to build a fine indignation, a pout of mythic proportions, but then I put myself in her shoes. Suddenly, I knew exactly what she was saying. It wasn't a particularly nice realization.

"Point taken. Well Kirlian Photography was all the rage in the 1970's. I know, you're much too young to remember the 1970's, but for argument's sake let's pretend you do. Anyway, what they did was take a photographic plate, lay an object on top of it like leaf or something, then charge that sucker with high voltage. In the resulting photo the leaf would glow around the edges with a visable aura. If you ripped a piece from the leaf, then photographed it again, you'd see the outline of the whole leaf. Kind of simplified but that the jest of the process. It was suggested that what was being photographed was the 'aura' or 'life force' of the object."

"And you think this has something to do with the talk tonight."

"Well. Maybe."

"About dogs and bears."

"I admit," I said, "it's a stretch. But not impossible. We're off the map here. We are in strange lands." I gave a quick glance right and left and said in a whisper "Here there be monsters."

"Excuse me just a moment," Mom said, and walked over to Stacy who was clearing tables. I couldn't tell what they were talking about because they were whispering. However, they did keep looking over in my direction. Each time they did I would smile and wave like a drunk Prom Queen on the Senior float. I figured your mom was explaining the basic photographic process to her. I supposed any minute they would both come to where I sat, seeking further illumination. They spoke in whispered tones for a long time. After a few minutes they both shook their heads and Mom returned to the table alone.

"It's not Kirlian, it's Kaerlian, and has nothing to do with the paranormal. It's the breed of dog." She looked at me blankly. "They come from Finland."

"Oh," I said. "I see."

"Yeah."

"Well damn it. That's a whole lot less interesting."

"No, Stacy says that it's really is an entertaining talk. He brings a couple of the dogs in with him and he has a ton of pictures of the dogs and various bears from the park."

"Still," I say, trying to hide my disappointment, "it's no study of bear aura, is it? No concrete proof of a universal force." I placed an exaggerated look of disappointment on my face. "The mysteries will have to remain. . . unseen."

Then for emphasis I hummed the theme from the Twilight Zone.

Mom's eye narrowed. "Wait a minute. You knew that all along, didn't you?"

"I know not of what you speak my dear."

Here Mom actually slugged me on the shoulder.

"God. I should have known. Good one there, Mr. Funny Guy."

Oh oh. I had crossed a line. I was being referred to as 'Mr. Funny Guy'. That comes right before 'Mr. Sleep On The Couch Guy', which in turn is followed by 'Mr. Dead In His Sleep Guy'. I put on my best smile. My look-at-how-cute-I-am-and-I-meant-no-harm-so-you-can't-be-mad-at-me smile. It didn't work.

"I want you to get up and walk to the door."

"Why would I do that?" I asked.

"So the entire Lodge can hear me shout 'Dead Man Walkin'!"

"Okay, now that's funny. I don't care who you are."

"It's a good thing I love you so much," Mom said, and leaned over to kiss my forehead.

"Honey," I said, leaning into the kiss, "I count my blessings every day."


Buy The Book At Amazon! $14.95
Kindle Version $ 4.99
Nook $4.99

*** the journey continues ***