The Literary Festival

Kyle Burkett


Okay, so we had the big literary festival last week. Some of our members had poems work-shopped with the big name poets, and there were several readings by the writers. We went to the events incognito (meaning without the robes) and sat separately so as not to call attention to ourselves, but there was a definite guild presence.

So I ran into Brittany after the poetry workshop, and she told me that Cue Ball’s poem got slashed by Maxine Kumin. I asked her about the poem, and unfortunately she agreed with Kumin. Although she usually appreciates the work of the Ball, this poem was uncharacteristically bad. It had no recognizable meter and somehow he used ten different words that almost slant rhymed with the word “screw.” Apparently Kumin objected to his use of the phrase “banana fana fo.” I could tell something was going horribly wrong with Cue Ball. We must get to the bottom of this.

At the meeting Wednesday afternoon everything was explained. I got there a few minutes late, and there was Boof in the dungeon complaining about the hack job Kumin did on his poem, with everyone gathered around listening sympathetically. I quickly put two and two together and figured out that Boof had possessed Cue Ball and sent one of his own poems to the workshop. I don’t know how Boof can possess people now without being seen, but it’s going on.

Anyway, I didn’t want to be around and catch some of the Boof-ness, so I started back up the stairs before anyone in the dungeon saw me. I heard someone on the staircase above me, so I ducked into one of the many shadows along the wall. A few minutes later Dr. Railsback walked by with someone I didn’t immediately recognize, but reminded me a little of the picture of Sherman Alexie on the signs for the Literary Festival. I followed them at a safe distance. This ought to be good.

I kept to the shadows to remain unnoticed. Generally when famous literary figures and undead poets come together, strange things happen. I didn’t really want to ride the elevator down to hell again, so I decided to keep out of the action this time. Didn’t work, though. Dr. Railsback looked at Boof, cleaned his glasses on the sleeve of his robe and looked again, then he looked around the room at the guild members present. I thought as hard as I could, “Don’t blow my cover, don’t blow my cover, don’t blow my cover,” but to no avail. He said out loud, “Kyle, what are you doing over there? Come over here with the rest of the group.” Rrrrg.

Dr. Railsback proceeded to introduce Sherman Alexie to us, and explained a little about Alexie’s work. I wasn’t really interested, since I was worried about Boof being in control of Cue Ball. After answering a few questions, Alexie left to prepare for his lecture that night. Dr. Railsback escorted him out, and I got up to follow. James asked me where I was going, and I replied, “The little writers’ room.” So I followed Dr. Railsback and Sherman Alexie at a safe distance, and once Alexie was on his way out of the building I grabbed Dr. Railsback.

“Didn’t you see that Boof was down there?” I asked him.

“Yes, and if you keep avoiding him he’ll know you’ve seen him.”

“So now we’re just letting him do whatever he wants?”

“No, now we’re getting rid of him for good. Boof is only using Cue Ball temporarily. After the lecture tonight, he’s moving in with Alexie. He’ll have an instant literary career, which is all he really wants anyway. He’ll probably ruin Alexie’s career, but the important thing is that he’s out of our lives for good.”

I readily agreed with that, but I wasn’t sure about the ethics of the situation. To solve this dilemma, I ducked into an empty classroom and looked around for celestial messengers. They tend to pop up whenever I need them. Sure enough, Raphael dropped down into the room as soon as I was in. You remember Raphael; he’s the sociable spirit from Paradise Lost. Anyway, he pulled up a chair and invited me to do the same. I explained the situation to him, and he said, “It’s okay, Dr. Railsback got the appropriate authorization beforehand.” I must have looked confused, because he sighed and continued. “There’s a certain amount of paperwork that has to be taken care of, but it is possible to get an authorized possession by the spirit of a defunct human. Animals are harder to get through, but it has happened.”

I asked, “So why is it okay for Boof to possess Sherman Alexie?”

“Mr. Alexie has to undergo some penance. Have you ever read his books?” I shook my head. “Seen his movies?”

“I did see The Business of Fancydancing.”

“That’s an excellent example of what we’re talking about. Fancydancing presents the poet with two options: live with substance abuse, ignorance, and misery, or renounce his family and friends. He completely ignores the option for God. God never even enters Alexie’s equation. So, to remind him that there’s a God in heaven, we’re allowing Boof to take over Alexie’s life for a short time.”

“We?”

“Authorizing possession is one of those tasks God delegates to the angels. He’s a busy guy, and doesn’t really have time for all the petitions people bring to him. That’s why we have to keep a record of every prayer. We have to make sure the requests are filed appropriately.”

I still didn’t understand, but I figure if Raphael and Dr. Railsback agree on this, there’s not much I can do to stop it. Besides, Cue Ball is back with us, and can’t remember a thing about his time as Boof. Lucky him.

So Boof is gone for good now. I haven’t heard much about Sherman Alexie, but like I said, it’s only been a week. I don’t expect his stardom to last much longer, but I think he’ll be okay. He charged the university thirteen thousand dollars for his lecture, more than some people make in a year. We’re only allotted fifteen minutes of fame anyway, right?



back to the darkness