Nicholas Grider
There is a conversation to be had about a lot of things, including the power lines. The North Platte Magic Hut is where the power lines are, up on poles like a canopy. Some say they converge here like a nexus of realities, vibes, or both, but maybe not on purpose because this is where the abandoned hospital and the Jo-Ann Fabrics sat for a while before a wave of under-booked motels and fast food places popped up everywhere like kudzu that feeds on sweat and grease and fills the fields with rats and money.
We are gathered here today for an organizational alignment but we’re on hold because there are a bunch of loud popping noises outside and what sounds like a cloud if clouds were made out of static electricity and tiny distant demolitions.
We’ve also been told to stay put because of what the authorities on the news said was a “mass casualty incident” at the Days Inn kitty corner across the parking lot.
Doritos have spiritual energy, we agree. Everything has spiritual energy. Cool Ranch has the most. Seasonal flavors are dark energy and call forth demons. We met one of the demons once. His name was Old Charles and he wasn’t so much of a demon as kind of a bummer, telling us the Hut was a graveyard for the New Years Resolutions of years past, but then he told us we were a similar bummer and he was off to find seniors and road-trippers at IHOP to whom he could give ambiguously bad ideas.
We’re not all about making money, but money is a thing we are about. This is Nebraska, and some frontiers are permanent. Spiritual weapons do not grow on trees, except when you rub a twig with selenite during a supermoon, which are common now but not all the time.
There is a conversation to be had about whether the Magic Hut is close enough to the power lines to absorb and focus dark energy, but we would prefer not to have this conversation as we do not have a secondary location. We call it the Magic Hut not because we are cute or the hut is cute but because it was formerly a Pizza Hut and retains its red-paneled swoop of a post-mid-modern roof (which Gus says are gables, and you can’t trademark a gable) so now the red is cleansing energy for the spiritual nourishment contained herein.
Some of us used to be Mormons, but that doesn’t have anything to do with anything.
Gus suggests the current mayhem is a domestic type thing and not terrorism but Candy says why not both: bad vibes are very layered in their intent. When Judy calls Terry back, Terry (who always knows things) says he hasn’t heard anything but it’s probably nothing and it’s probably under control.
There are a few screams going around but the news said public screams are not always a thing.
We are all here to learn something about ourselves; we just cannot ever quite agree on what. There is a conversation to be had about this but we are hungry so we call to see if the IHOP can deliver during Incidents. Jackie at the IHOP says no in a weird voice and hangs up.
Trash, Candy says. Trash trash trash trash trash and drat. She is not the most demonstrative of seekers among us so each trash is as flat and smooth as the next but we counsel emotional regulation anyway because that’s what polite and well-trained people do. We’re not about money, but too many feelings means too few customers. If we get customers.
The gunfire gets closer but according to Rudy (per Candy) the dark energy is still specific to the Days Inn and maybe the parking lot of the Days Inn. We hear an overlap of sirens, which might be an indication from the universe we are safe, or will be, or always have been. Now more than ever, we need to hone our vibes.
Judy says we should stay in a state of spiritual preparedness by doing a reading because she wants to know how the dark energy of mass gun violence might affect the new veneers she got, which she points at as she gives voice to her desires.
They are nice teeth, we all agree, but we are not sure how the dark energy of a desperate nation might affect them.
The gunfire is getting closer, but so are the sirens and the sirens are probably good sirens. We focus and summon good sirens closer so people who might need help can get it. This is not spiritual warfare, but there is a conversation to be had about whether it’s close enough.
Just a quickie reading, Judy says. Readings of energy can be slim and economical, like payment reminders in life management apps.
There is a conversation to be had about how the world is full of noise, and how the spirit world is foam insulation and painted brick to gird us against that, but we decide against conversation until the storm of people being half-alive in the world subsides.
Instead we stop to realign. Some of the noise outside sounds like popcorn. Or celebration. We wait and—maybe because the Magic Hut is haunted—we are hungry, though we are not quite sure for what.
We are gathered here today for an organizational alignment but we’re on hold because there are a bunch of loud popping noises outside and what sounds like a cloud if clouds were made out of static electricity and tiny distant demolitions.
We’ve also been told to stay put because of what the authorities on the news said was a “mass casualty incident” at the Days Inn kitty corner across the parking lot.
Doritos have spiritual energy, we agree. Everything has spiritual energy. Cool Ranch has the most. Seasonal flavors are dark energy and call forth demons. We met one of the demons once. His name was Old Charles and he wasn’t so much of a demon as kind of a bummer, telling us the Hut was a graveyard for the New Years Resolutions of years past, but then he told us we were a similar bummer and he was off to find seniors and road-trippers at IHOP to whom he could give ambiguously bad ideas.
We’re not all about making money, but money is a thing we are about. This is Nebraska, and some frontiers are permanent. Spiritual weapons do not grow on trees, except when you rub a twig with selenite during a supermoon, which are common now but not all the time.
There is a conversation to be had about whether the Magic Hut is close enough to the power lines to absorb and focus dark energy, but we would prefer not to have this conversation as we do not have a secondary location. We call it the Magic Hut not because we are cute or the hut is cute but because it was formerly a Pizza Hut and retains its red-paneled swoop of a post-mid-modern roof (which Gus says are gables, and you can’t trademark a gable) so now the red is cleansing energy for the spiritual nourishment contained herein.
Some of us used to be Mormons, but that doesn’t have anything to do with anything.
Gus suggests the current mayhem is a domestic type thing and not terrorism but Candy says why not both: bad vibes are very layered in their intent. When Judy calls Terry back, Terry (who always knows things) says he hasn’t heard anything but it’s probably nothing and it’s probably under control.
There are a few screams going around but the news said public screams are not always a thing.
We are all here to learn something about ourselves; we just cannot ever quite agree on what. There is a conversation to be had about this but we are hungry so we call to see if the IHOP can deliver during Incidents. Jackie at the IHOP says no in a weird voice and hangs up.
Trash, Candy says. Trash trash trash trash trash and drat. She is not the most demonstrative of seekers among us so each trash is as flat and smooth as the next but we counsel emotional regulation anyway because that’s what polite and well-trained people do. We’re not about money, but too many feelings means too few customers. If we get customers.
The gunfire gets closer but according to Rudy (per Candy) the dark energy is still specific to the Days Inn and maybe the parking lot of the Days Inn. We hear an overlap of sirens, which might be an indication from the universe we are safe, or will be, or always have been. Now more than ever, we need to hone our vibes.
Judy says we should stay in a state of spiritual preparedness by doing a reading because she wants to know how the dark energy of mass gun violence might affect the new veneers she got, which she points at as she gives voice to her desires.
They are nice teeth, we all agree, but we are not sure how the dark energy of a desperate nation might affect them.
The gunfire is getting closer, but so are the sirens and the sirens are probably good sirens. We focus and summon good sirens closer so people who might need help can get it. This is not spiritual warfare, but there is a conversation to be had about whether it’s close enough.
Just a quickie reading, Judy says. Readings of energy can be slim and economical, like payment reminders in life management apps.
There is a conversation to be had about how the world is full of noise, and how the spirit world is foam insulation and painted brick to gird us against that, but we decide against conversation until the storm of people being half-alive in the world subsides.
Instead we stop to realign. Some of the noise outside sounds like popcorn. Or celebration. We wait and—maybe because the Magic Hut is haunted—we are hungry, though we are not quite sure for what.
Nicholas Grider's previous story collections include Misadventure (A Strange Object) and Forest of Borders (Malarkey). This story is part of a novel in stories currently in progress.
