That Fantastic Thing I Kept Alluding to in the Last Story

Kyle Burkett


So, I bet you’re all just waiting for me to reveal the big, exciting thing that’s about to happen. Well, just hang on a minute. All in good time. So we were all down in the dungeon reading our blank verse epics based on Faulkner novels. James did The Sound and the Fury, Brittany did Sanctuary, and then it was Kristi’s turn. She announced that she would be presenting Absalom, Absalom when all of a sudden her eyes opened extremely wide. Her hair popped out of its ponytail and turned into this wicked afro. She intoned in this otherworldly voice “I am Boof!” James, Brittany, Shorty, and Dr. Railsback dropped to the ground and covered their ears. Not being warned, the rest of us were taken completely by surprise. We just stared in mute horror as Kristi/Boof started reciting poetry.

“Baby our love is bitchin
Whenever I nail you in the kitchen
Your body is me bewitchin
So rock me baby, like your life depends on it.

Love is all we got in this world,
My baby girl,
So give life a whirl
And let me thrust you all night.

Baby you fine
You stimulate my mind
Take a sip of wine
And get down and dirty.”

By about this time we were all clutching our ears and moaning. Most of us were rolling around on the floor as well, with one notable exception. Cue Ball ran towards Kristi/Boof like a rhinoceros with too much caffeine, ready for the tackle and the end to all our pain, but Boof extended a hand and stopped him mid-step.

“Touch me not, mortal. I am in power now, and there is nothing any of you can do about it.”

I heard Dr. Railsback’s voice in my mind: “Lure him onto the elevator, then take him back to Hell. You’re an innocent; they won’t make you stay.” My first independent thought was, “How?” The only answer I got was “Be creative.” Oh great.

So I called out, “Hey Boof!”

And he said, “If it’s me you are addressing,
It will certainly be a blessing
If you address me in rhyme,
Cause if not you’re wasting your time.
Listen I shall not.”

So I said, “If Bombay Sapphire
Is your desire
Follow me
And you will see
Your wish fulfilled.”

He responded with “Lead on, my brother!
Let us away to another
Venue with more oil
To ease our throat’s toil.”

So I ran up the steps out of there, knowing full well that Kristi is a smoker and her lungs can’t really take a marathon from the basement to the fourth floor. So I led a heavily panting Kristi/Boof up to Dr. Gastle’s office for the very finest in gin. At least, the very finest you can find in rural North Carolina. So I got Boof worn out and then completely drunk. It took more than just one bottle of Bombay Sapphire, but it only scratched the surface of Dr. Gastle’s secret stash he hides behind the shelf of Chaucer criticism in his office. In his state of advanced inebriation and exhaustion, Boof soon succumbed to the temptation to sleep. Lucky me Kristi is quite thin, so it wasn’t that hard to pick her up and carry her over to the elevator. I took her inside and laid her down on the floor. I fished a dime out of my pocket and opened the panel with the cheap lock on it. I took a wild guess and assumed that the red button marked H was the one I was looking for.

So we rode down to Hell. It was a slow bumpy ride, even slower and bumpier than the usual elevator trips. When the doors finally opened, I picked Kristi back up and got off. I was faced with an enormous black gate. This guy in a white robe was sitting in front of it in a pale blue lawn chair, sipping green tea and humming “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring.” He looked surprised at our approach. I guess Hell doesn’t get many visitors. Anyway, he stood up and told us, “Sorry, no live bodies are allowed past this point. And if you don’t mind my asking, what are live humans doing trying to break into Hell?”

“Just trying to resolve a little possession issue. This guy Boof took over this body,” I nodded my head at Kristi’s limp body in my arms, “and now I’m trying to get him back into Hell.”

The gatekeeper took one look at Kristi and said, “I’m sorry, but there’s only one spirit in that body, and it’s the one that belongs there.”

“How do you know that?” I asked him.

“Don’t you know who I am? I am Azrael, the angel of death. "I can tell these things. If this Boof really was in her body, then he’s not now.”

“Hang on. If you’re an angel, what are you doing sitting in front of Hell?”

“I go where I’m needed. I don’t always know why I’m needed there, I just go. I had been sitting here for quite some time before you showed up. I’m guessing you’re late, and this Boof has already moved on to someone else.”

“Oh no!”

“Calm down, we’ll find him. Honestly, you people freak out over every little thing. Why can’t you believe that there is more to existence than your fragile mortal lives?”

“Well, without the constant reminders, like pestilence, famine, and war, we don’t really think about the spirit as much as our ancestors did.”

“Do you hear yourself? Do you live in a box? Don’t you have any idea what’s going on in the world around you? You mortals are dropping like china plates in an earthquake. Just because you don’t see it in your daily life you assume it doesn’t happen. Well let me tell you, it does. In your nation people die sanitized deaths in ICUs. In the rest of the world, people die in the street and the survivors are afraid to touch the bodies to bury them for fear of catching whatever killed their brother. Look around you. Hell had to add another wing just for drug dealers who caught AIDS from using dirty needles. That doesn’t approach the new cantos they’ve had to add for various other reasons.”

“Umm, I don’t mean to interrupt, but are we going to go find Boof or not?”

“Oh, right. Where did you leave him?” Azrael and I headed back up to the fourth floor. I left Kristi on a couch in the faculty lounge and took my angelic visitor to Dr. Gastle’s office. “Well, there’s your spiritual perpetrator. He’s been sleeping here on the floor the whole time.” I looked at the floor, but without seeing anyone. “Where is he?”

“You can’t see him?” I shook my head. Azrael sighed and touched my eyes. When he removed his hand, I could see this black guy lying on the floor. Azrael picked up the sleeping Boof and headed off to the elevator. Before he got on, he told me, “Now you can see the spiritual phenomena around you. Help the others believe, okay?” And he got on the elevator and the doors closed. I ran back down the steps to the dungeon, expecting a hero’s welcome and the chance to read my blank verse rendition of As I Lay Dying, but everyone was already gone. I guess Dr. Railsback didn’t want to risk anyone else getting taken over by the spirits of bad poets. A reasonable precaution. I’d have to grace them with my masterwork the next week.


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