Hanky and the Thousandsleeper

Hanky and the Thousandsleeper

A Novel by Marvin Roth

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Title Picture: Arndt Drechsler

All characters and events in this book are fictitious.

Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

Lulu Enterprises, Inc

Published by: epubli GmbH, Berlin, www.epubli.com

ISBN: 978-3-8442-3714-6

DEDICATION...

To all of my readers: Thank you for having the courage to think the unthinkable!

Also... I’ll be forever grateful to my family and friends on whose support I can count - always!

FOREWORD

We have all heard of ghouls, ghosts, poltergeists, goblins, spirits and demons.

Have you ever wondered why?

As long as mankind has existed, we have contemplated the presence of these eerie creatures in our lives. Are they real or are they just figments of our imagination? Who is to say? The fact is that they have influenced the beliefs of the people of Africa, Indonesia, Oceania, of the Amazon region; but also the Romans, Germanic tribes, the Chinese, the Japanese and even the Catholic Church and the Muslims.

Indeed, there is even a branch of research dedicated to a discipline called animism (a word derived from the Latin meaning faith), which is based on the belief that all objects and phenomena do have a soul that leaves the body after it dies and that continues to live elsewhere.

The culture of celebrating feast days to drive out demons and spirits is very much alive today. Even you, dear reader, may have participated in such celebrations! If you’ve ever been invited to a German wedding, you definitely have! On the eve of the wedding, bride and groom usually hold a party for friends and family called the Polterabend?

The tradition of the German Polterabend dates back to the 16th century. The correct name is actually Poltergeistabend (Poltergeist Eve). The guests bring old China and throw it to break it into a million pieces to show the poltergeists that their work has already been done and that there is no need for them to break more dishes. As a result, the young couple will hopefully get a good night’s sleep.

Yet this is only one example of “modern” life that reminds us that spirits are still very influential figures.

Now it’s time for you to join Hanky as he embarks on an exciting adventure.

I hope this story will keep you enthralled for many enjoyable hours,

Marvin Roth Palm Beach /Florida

THANK YOU!

My deepest gratitude goes to my beloved wife Conny for her indispensible input, support and the patience to read my manuscripts more than just once!

She made some of her most inspiring comments very early in the book when I had arrived at the scene depicting the beat sitting inside the rabbit and the dog spots the rabbit.

With a lot of emphasis she simply said:

“You better don’t do anything to the dog!”

Our friend Patti put it into even more definitive terms when we ran this small episode by her:

“Don’t kill the Dog!”

I also would like to express my special thanks to my copy editor and very dear friend Irina Launhardt, who edited the manuscript with great dedication and commitment.

And yes, what would a book be without a publisher?

It would not even exist.

Thank you very much, Rolf Bingenheimer:

You and your Transgalaxis Publishing Company have paved the road to the stars for this author.

For English version, my special thanks to Julie Corley. Without her I couldn’t have published my novel in English.

THE AUTHOR

The Author, Marvin Roth, moved from Germany to Florida in 2001.

It was his lifelong dream to live in the USA. Marvin was a child between two worlds as his father was an American Soldier in Germany and his mother was German. Marvin was born and raised in Germany and although he enjoyed growing up in the German culture he has also grown to love the American way of life. He and his wife Cornelia travelled across

the USA and truly fell in love with the Americans and the beautiful landscape in this great country.

Marvin published short stories in his early years and in 2004 he began working on his novel. The idea for “Hanky and the Thousandsleeper” came to Marvin in 2005. Marvin had to run his business in the daytime and could only work on the script during nighttime hours so it took 4 years to complete. In October 2009 his German publisher with the Frankfurt Book Fair presented Marvin’s “Hanky and the Thousandsleeper”. Since this event the book is now selling in several European Countries, like Germany, Austria, Italy, Switzerland, Holland, Belgium, Denmark, Finland and Sweden. Marvin hopes his book will be liked by the American people as well.

This years Frankfurt Book Fair Marvin presented his second Hanky story to the public in Europe and hopes to present it soon in the USA.

Marvin did not stop writing and soon will show more impressions from his World.

CHAPTER 1

Morning crept across the forest meadow dragging along weary wafts of mist. Dew drops hung from the twigs of the beech trees, oaks and yews. The grass had that unhealthy blue grayish coloring of fall advancing upon the land. The day struggled into an awakened state slowly. Wan light appeared behind gray clouds that covered up the sun and ponderously chased away the cold of the night.

A small group of deer grazed on the edge of the forest. The animals came to this lonesome clearance almost every morning at the break of day before the woods and all of its noises would demand all of their attention. Here they felt safe and a predator had never made an appearance. Nonetheless, the animals, true to their species, were always very cautious. They took turns raising their heads looking around to check for any suspect movement, listen for any rustling leaves or cracking of a tree branch.

Yet everything was the same as always. The forest was quiet and only a barely noticeable breeze occasionally brushed across the tips of the grass.

A second later, in a mere instant, the peaceful setting suddenly changed. As if controlled by a secret command, the entire group ceased to graze and all of deer started into the same direction as if drawn by a magnet force. Visually nothing at all appeared to be different, and no strange noises could be heard. Nevertheless, something was definitely out there: a hunter, more dangerous and more sanguinary than any other. He made not a single sound, he was completely invisible yet he was filled with a lust to kill. The deer felt him awaken instinctively. They sensed the gruesomeness and the unfathomable. They perceived the evil as it groped for them.

With eyes wide open in panic and foam forming in front of their mouths as a result of hectic breathing and great fear, the animals trampled down the moist grass before they, running into each other, fled in the opposite direction into the woods.

Only the trampled down meadow and the sound of breaking branches, which became less and less audible bore witness to the fact that the deer had ever been here just moments ago.

A few miles from this spot, Ben Johansson, the farmer, made his way across Prisco’s bumpy dirt roads in his age worn 1950s Ford tractor. He was out early this morning because he and his wife Julie wanted to run some errands in town in the afternoon. Actually, New Bismarck was more of a village than a town. The only place to shop in town was the department and general store ran by old man Josh Biller. Of course there were also a few small stores that sold everyday necessities. All of these businesses could be found along the Main Street in New Bismarck. However, the village only had a total of maybe twenty five roads and a population of about three thousand. Nonetheless, he was looking forward to their excursion even though shopping was not one of his favorite past times. While Julie browsed the store shelves at Josh Biller’s, he planned to stop by Betty Sue’s a small country style restaurant right next door to Jose de Villa’s barbershop. He’d get an update on the latest gossip and spend a few hours hanging out with his friends. That’s how they had always organized their shopping days -ever since he had inherited the farm from his dad twenty three years ago.

The fateful events had begun the evening before. A fox had caught a magpie. He had staked out the area for a long time and his stomach was growling with hunger when suddenly a magpie landed right in front of him. The bird seemed to be unaware of its surroundings and began to pick through the soil with its beak in search of a worm or a tasty maggot. The fox leapt from its hiding place in the brush. The bird almost managed to escape. It flattered its wings and rose from the ground, but the fox was in close pursuit, barely grabbing its tail feathers and tearing it to the ground. The fox quickly pounded the magpie’s body into the soil and broke its neck with one hasty bite. The magpie’s body fell limp instantly and a few droplets of blood trickled down into the forest soil, where they disappeared in the soft humus. The fox picked up its loot and, overcome by a sudden panic attack, ran off with it. A few seconds later he had vanished in the thick brush. The blood, on the other hand, awakened something hidden deep beneath the humus that should have never been raised up.

Ben Johansson had just begun to plough his fields when he noticed some movement over by the edge of the forest. Ben got a closer look and spotted a man in a blue coverall, check shirt and black-gray baseball cap standing there. The man waved at him. Ben responded with a wave of his own and recognized the man as Hank Bergson, a young man everyone called simply Hanky, although he stood more than 6.4 feet tall. Hanky had hair so blond it looked like straw and the mind of a seven-year-old boy.

His parents, Ellie and Daniel, had gotten married although they were first cousins. Here in the country no one gave it much thought back then. If kids fall in love, they should get married, is what everyone used to say back then. After all, they made such a beautiful couple.

Ellie and Daniel had been close friends who spent most of their time together ever since they were small children. Daniel’s father, Ray, was a forest worker. Every now and then he brought a piece of wild game home in the evening after work. In those impoverished, hard days, this meant the family would have meat for a week. His sister Wilma and her husband, mine worker Ed Leuten, lived right next door in a small cabin. Leuten never brought home enough of his earnings to properly care for his family. In fact, he frequently came home stone drunk without much change left in his pockets. Given these circumstances, Wilma and her little daughter Ellie often ate with her brother’s family. Then one day Ed did not come home at all. At first his wife thought he’d gone on another boozing rampage, but when he had not returned after three days, Ray embarked on a search for his brother-in-law. His rifle over his shoulder, he packed some bread and deer jerky into a bag and headed out. For days he hiked through the woods and searched the villages in the vicinity. He asked people if they had seen his brother-in-law, but nobody had spotted him anywhere. He finally found him on the fifth day, or rather, what was left of him. Ed’s body was lying in a ravine about five miles from his home. His remains were in a horrible state. Virtually every body part had been dislodged from its natural location. The disembodiment was so horrific that just looking at him made Ray vomit. After a while, Ray dug a grave for his brother-in-law with his bare hands and laid him to rest. He took great care to diligently cover up all of the traces of the ghastly events. He even spread leaves and twigs across the agitated ground. Once he was done, the forest looked completely pristine. Thankfully, he soon came upon a nearby creek, where he was able to wash and scrub his entire body clean before he returned home to his family. When he arrived, he simply told them that his search had been fruitless and that Ed had probably run off for good. His sister and her young daughter moved in with Ray’s family. From this day forward, Ellie and Daniel spent every waking moment together. Everyone in the valley soon got used to seeing them together wherever they went and it appeared to be a completely natural progression of events when they finally married.

Hank was born well over a year after the wedding. His parents soon realized that their son was different than the other children they knew. They gave the little tyke all of their love. He grew up quickly and his body was healthy, but something appeared to be wrong with his head, as the townsfolk used to say. Everyone in the valley knew Hanky. He often rode around on his old bicycle and sang children’s songs and continued to do so even though he was now close to thirty years old. Hanky loved his bicycle and he loved the forest. People said that he took after his grandfather, who’d had the same passion. He spent many a day exploring the woods and would not return to his home until dusk.

That is why Ben Johansson did not give it a second thought when he saw Hanky standing on the edge of the forest.

When Hanky approached the fringes of the woods, he observed Ben Johansson’s tractor making its way across the field. He liked Ben because Ben was always nice to him. Sometimes Ben would give the young man a piece of chocolate or a lemon drop. So Hanky made sure he was easy to spot at the edge of the forest and waved in the direction of the farmer. Maybe this would be another lucky day and he’d get a piece of chocolate if he waved real nice. But the farmer just gave him a quick wave and then focused on the vehicle again as he was getting ready to plough the next row.

“Well, I guess he didn’t bring anything today,” Hanky mumbled under his breath.

Next thing he knew, a squirrel dashed right by him and Hanky instantly forgot all about Ben Johansson. With eyes as wide as a child’s he watched as the animal quickly and skillfully climbed a tree. After a while he got tired of squirrel watching and stepped back into the forest in his clumsy manner.

At around the same time, Rita Miller, a Prisco Elementary School teacher, made sure that all of the pupils attending third grade had put on their jackets and hats properly. She was a highly responsible and committed teacher and her students loved her for it. Rita did not have any children of her own, and doctors had told her that she would not be able to have any.

She had eventually accepted her fate and focused entirely on her profession, which had become her calling and something she truly enjoyed. Her husband was a reporter with the local editorial office of the “New Bismarck News”. As a result, he was also in the loop and abreast of all the latest regional news. This was exactly what he wanted, after all, he loved to gossip and would probably have been a popular guest at every coffee klatch in town. Yet he preferred to drive around, stopping on and off to talk to the farmers and the employees of small business about their particular problems.

He had to drive into New Bismarck just once a week to see the editor and drop off his reports along with the occasional assignment to check out a specific story.

Rita Miller had the pupils form two rows. Today, she was planning to take them on a field trip into the woods. The kids were brimming with excitement, because that meant a day away from their desks and boring classroom work. The small group soon set out on its hike. They crossed Main Street and walked up a small side road which eventually turned into a dirt road that continued straight into the forest.

CHAPTER 2

Below the humus, the soil was warm and moist. Down here, there was no indication that fall was about to move into winter. He could have cared less. He didn’t feel it anyway. He only knew two feelings - “hunger and revenge”-, which in his case translated into a pure, unfettered lust to kill. That tiny amount of blood, which blended with the moisture in the ground, had encroached upon the place where he rested, had been just enough to arouse him. Now he had to wait. He would have to wait for the body, the vehicle that could transport him. That meant he’d have to wait for an animal that was large enough for him to migrate into. Despite his impatience he knew that it would only be a matter of time until he would be freed from his imprisonment. The anger slowly returned. The chagrin of having been caught off guard back then. His host body had been shot before he had had a chance to slip into a different body. The effects had left him numbed and before he knew it, he had been buried in the forest soil. The death of his host body had weakened him so that he had had to take a rest. Finally he had turned so feeble that he had dozed off into a deep sleep. He had slept for a long time, just like many other times before. In fact, he could no longer recall how many times this had happened. Again and again, fate had turned against him. Yet he had always managed to come back. And every single time he had gotten his revenge. His brutal revenge. People had begun to perceive him as a demon. They were telling each other tales of his exploits. Every now and then he had managed to mingle with them without them even being aware of his presence. He had listened to their tales. He felt far superior to humankind and despised them. Yet he was anything but a demon.

Hanky had already made considerable headway into the forest. He sang the occasional song. His songs. Children’s songs. Talking hikes by himself while singing was one of his favorite past times. The others tended to give him such strange looks whenever he sang. But here, he hardly ever ran into anyone else and he could sing to his heart’s content - out loud or under his breath. It was entirely up to him. He frequently talked to himself or any other sentient being he ran into on his hikes. He would have conversations with the trees, the birds and all of those creatures who appeared to be listening intently and take an interest in him while they observed him from the branches of the trees. Every now and then, he would even talk to a hedgehog, even though they appeared to be rather stern fellows who would not even look him in the eye while he chatted them up. The forest treated him well and had never caused him any hurt. The animals liked to stay close to him because he exuded something they perceived maybe as good heartedness and gentleness.. Hanky had just watched a team of ants marching in a long row across the small clearing at the edge of which he now lingered.

“So many antis,” he murmured, “Three, five, thirteen, eight, forty one, six, two.”

Hanky had never actually learned to count. But he had fun just saying numbers out loud. He knew all numbers up to one hundred, but he could not comprehend how to put them into the proper order. Hanky was not worried about it; he did not even give it a single thought. He stood up and as he just wanted to continue his walk, he thought he had heard a voice. Something was calling out to him. What he heard were not actual words, but he heard something in his head and it really confused him a lot. Disconcerted, he looked around, nervously trampling the ground with his feet. He did that whenever he was not sure what he should do. He scratched his neck in a nervous tick, placed his hands over his ears to block out the voices, but he could still hear them calling. Hanky stepped out into the clearance just a bit and the beckoning calls in his head became even louder.

Rita Miller and her group had just reached the edge of the forest and now stood in virtually the same location where Hank had watched the squirrel just a little while ago and waved at Ben Johansson. Ben was almost done plowing and was taking a break to light his pipe. His usually smoked outdoors, because his wife could not stand the odor of pipe tobacco in the house. Ben plugged his pipe with tobacco and observed the small group of students at the fringes of the forest.

The children jumped up and down with excitement and Rita Miller once again checked their coats to make sure they were all in place. Next, she counted the children, who were lined up in pairs one final time before they would head into the forest. As the group began to move and was just about to step into the woods, piercing, ugly screams could suddenly be heard. Ben sat upright and rubber necked to be able to see what was going on. The pupils and their teacher were awestruck and just stood there, listening for more sounds from the forest. The screaming voice became louder and louder. Suddenly Hanky dashed through the brush, continued to run a little further. Breathing heavily, he finally came to a sudden stop right before the freshly ploughed furrows in the field. He shook his heavy head as if he was in a state of stupor, as if he wanted to get rid of something that had gotten caught in his hair. It wasn’t until then that he recognized Rita Miller and her class. The pupils crowded around their teacher and stared at Hanky, who was covered with leaves and soil. Blood was dripping from a superficial wound on his forehead, leaving a dark trail across his sweat drenched face.

“Do not go in there,” Hanky stammered.

“Bad, evil thing in there, do not go in.”

Rita Miller broke loose of the children and instructed them to stay where they were. She walked over to Hanky, whose entire body had begun to shake.

“Hanky my poor Hanky,” she tried to soothe him, “what is frightening you so terribly?”

“Don’t go in there, don’t go in,” he repeated.

By now, Ben Johansson had made it across the field and asked:

“What in the world is going on here? Hanky, what’s wrong with you? You are all dirty... Did you fall?”

“Do not go in there,” Hanky said once again, with a dazed look on his face, ‘“4n evil thing in there”

“He seems really upset,” Ben said to Rita Miller. “It’s probably best if we take him back to the village to see Doctor Ness,” the teacher suggested.

She walked back over to Hanky and took his hand as if he was a small boy. In any other situation, this would have looked funny, because Hanky was almost two heads taller than she was. However, even the children were conscious of the seriousness of the situation and remained calm. They didn’t say word. No one was joking or dancing around. Some stared at the forest in fear, as if they felt that something uncanny was going on in there. Ben accompanied the group a little ways and finally returned to his tractor.

“I’ll take the tractor up to Prisco and let the doctor know you’re coming,” he called out to the teacher. Ben cranked up the engine and drove off.

“Well, I’ll have quite a story to tell the boys in New Bismarck later,” he thought, “and Julie, too.” Moments later, he turned into the dirt road that would take him to Prisco.